ALBERT  SEMELS 

2/10  «  SWET 

ftP  F&5K.  II,  M. 


"  He  dragged  me  onto  the  roof  and  pointed 


THE  WORKS  OF 

E.  PHILLIPS 
OPPENHEIM 


A  PRINCE  OF  SINNERS 


MCKINLAY,  STONE  &  MACKENZIE 

NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1903, 
BY  E.  PHILLIPS  OPPENHEIM. 

Copyright,  ipoj, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 

All  rightt  rttcrvtd 

Tenth  Printing 


Stack 
Annex 

PR 


Contents 


PART  I. 

CHAPTER  *AG» 

I.  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks,  Political  Agent ...  i 

II.  The  Bullsom  Family  at  Home 6 

III.  Kingston  Brooks  has  a  Visitor 16 

IV.  A  Question  for  the  Country 25 

V.  The  Marquis  of  Arranmore 35 

VI.  The  Man  who  went  to  Hell  ......  44 

VII.  A  Thousand  Pounds 53 

VIII.  Kingston  Brooks  makes  Inquiries   ....  60 

IX.  Henslow  speaks  out 68 

X.  A  Tempting  Offer 76 

XI.  Who  the  Devil  is  Brooks? 85 

XII.  Mr.  Bullsom  gives  a  Dinner-party  ....  94 

XIII.  Charity  the  "Crime" 105 

XIV.  An  Awkard  Question 117 

XV.  A  Supper-party  at  the  "  Queen's "        .     .     .  130 

XVI.  Uncle  and  Niece 139 

XVII.  Fifteen  Years  in  Hell 148 

XVIII.  Mary  Scott  pays  an  Unexpected  Call  .     .     .  158 

XIX.  The  Marquis  Mephistopheles 167 

XX.  The  Confidence  of  Lord  Arranmore     .     .     .  176 

PART   II. 

I.  Lord  Arranmore's  Amusements       .     .     .     .  188 

II.  The  Heckling  of  Henslow 200 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PACK 

III.  Mary  Scott's  Two  Visitors 209 

IV.  A  Marquis  on  Matrimony 219 

V.     Brooks  enlists  a  Recruit 229 

VI.     Kingston  Brooks,  Philanthropist 239 

VII.     Brooks  and  his  Missions      .  250 

VIII.     Mr.  Bullsom  is  Staggered 259 

IX.    Ghosts 269 

X.    A  New  Don  Quixote 277 

PART   III. 

I.    An  Aristocratic  Recruit 286 

II.     Mr.  Lavilette  interferes 294 

III.  The  Singular  Behaviour  of  Mary  Scott    .     .     .  302 

IV.  Lord  Arranmore  in  a  New  Role 309 

V.     Lady  Sybil  lends  a  Hand 319 

VI.    The  Reservation  of  Mary  Scott 328 

VII.     Father  and  Son 337 

VIII.    The  Advice  of  Mr.  Bullsom 346 

IX.    A  Question  and  an  Answer 356 

X.     Lady  Sybil  says  "  Yes " 365 

XI.     Brooks  hears  the  News 372 

XII.  The  Prince  of  Sinners  speaks  out       .     .     .     .  379 


A  Prince  of  Sinners 

PART  I 

CHAPTER   I 

MR.  KINGSTON  BROOKS,  POLITICAL  AGENT 

ALREADY  the  sweepers  were  busy  in  the  de- 
serted hall,  and  the  lights  burned  low.  Of  the 
great  audience  who  had  filled  the  place  only  half- 
an-hour  ago  not  one  remained.  The  echoes  of  their 
tumultuous  cheering  seemed  still  to  linger  amongst 
the  rafters,  the  dust  which  their  feet  had  raised  hung 
about  in  a  little  cloud.  But  the  long  rows  of  benches 
were  empty,  the  sweepers  moved  ghostlike  amongst 
the  shadows,  and  an  old  woman  was  throwing  tea- 
leaves  here  and  there  about  the  platform.  In  the  com- 
mittee-room behind  a  little  group  of  men  were  busy 
with  their  leave-takings.  The  candidate,  a  tall,  some- 
what burly  man,  with  hard,  shrewd  face  and  loosely- 
knit  figure,  was  shaking  hands  with  every  one.  His 
tone  and  manner  savoured  still  of  the  rostrum. 

"  Good-night,  sir !  Good-night,  Mr.  Bullsom !  A 
most  excellent  introduction,  yours,  sir!  You  made 
my  task  positively  easy.  Good-night,  Mr.  Brooks. 
A  capital  meeting,  and  everything  very  well  arranged. 
Personally  I  feel  very  much  obliged  to  you,  sir.  If 


2  A  PRINCE   OE  SINNERS. 

you  carry  everything  through  as  smoothly  as  this 
affair  to-night,  I  can  see  that  we  shall  lose  nothing  by 
poor  Morrison's  breakdown.  Good-night,  gentlemen, 
to  all  of  you.  We  will  meet  at  the  club  at  eleven 
o'clock  to-morrow  morning.  Eleven  o'clock  pre- 
cisely, if  you  please." 

The  candidate  went  out  to  his  carriage,  and  the 
others  followed  in  twos  and  threes.  A  young  man, 
pale,  with  nervous  mouth,  strongly-marked  features 
and  clear  dark  eyes,  looked  up  from  a  sheaf  of  letters 
which  he  was  busy  sorting. 

'  "  Don't  wait  for  me,  Mr.  Bullsom,"  he  said. 
"  Reynolds  will  let  me  out,  and  I  had  better  run 
through  these  letters  before  I  leave." 

Mr.  Bullsom  was  emphatic  to  the  verge  of  gruff- 
ness. 

"  You  '11  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  he  declared.  "  I 
tell  you  what  it  is,  Brooks.  We  're  not  going  to  let 
you  knock  yourself  up.  You  're  tackling  this  job  in 
rare  style.  I  can  tell  you  that  Henslow  is  delighted." 
'  "  I  'm  much  obliged  to  you  for  saying  so,  Mr. 
iBullsom,"  the  young  man  answered.  "  Of  course 
the  work  is  strange  to  me,  but  it  is  very  interesting, 
and  I  don't  mean  to  make  a  mess  of  it." 

"  There  is  only  one  chance  of  your  doing  that," 
Mr.  Bullsom  rejoined,  "  and  that  is  if  you  overwork 
yourself.  You  need  a  bit* of  looking  after.  You've 
got  a  rare  head  on  your  shoulders,  and  I  'm  proud  to 
think  that  I  was  the  one  to  bring  your  name  before 
the  committee.  But  I  'm  jolly  well  certain  of  one 
thing.  You  've  done  all  the  work  a  man  ought  to 
do  in  one  day.  Now  listen  to  me.  Here  's  my  car- 
riage waiting,  and  you  're  going  straight  home  with 


me  to  have  a  bite  and  a  glass  of  wine.  We  can't  afford 
to  lose  our  second  agent,  and  I  can  see  what 's  the  mat- 
ter with  you.  You  're  as  pale  as  a  ghost,  and  no  won- 
der. You  've  been  at  it  all  day  and  never  a  break." 

The  young  man  called  Brooks  had  not  the  energy 
to  frame  a  refusal,  which  he  knew  would  be  resented. 
He  took  down  his  overcoat,  and  stuffed  the  letters 
into  his  pocket. 

"  You  're  very  good,"  he  said.  "  I  '11  come  up  for 
an  hour  with  pleasure." 

They  passed  out  together  into  the  street,  and  Mr. 
Bullsom  opened  the  door  of  his  carriage. 

"In  with  you,  young  man,"  he  exclaimed.  " Home, 
George! " 

Kingston  Brooks  leaned  back  amongst  the  cushions 
with  a  little  sigh  of  relief. 

"  This  is  very  restful,"  he  remarked.  "  We  have 
certainly  had  a  very  busy  day.  The  inside  of  elec- 
tioneering may  be  disenchanting,  but  it 's  jolly  hard 
work." 

Mr.  Bullsom  sat  with  clasped  hands  in  front  of  him 
resting  upon  that  slight  protuberance  which  denoted 
the  advent  of  a  stomach.  He  had  thrown  away  the 
cigar  which  he  had  lit  in  the  committee-room.  Mrs. 
Bullsom  did  not  approve  of  smoking  in  the  covered 
wagonette,  which  she  frequently  honoured  with  her 
presence. 

"  There 's  nothing  in  the  world  worth  having  that 
has  n't  to  be  worked  for,  my  boy,"  he  declared,  good- 
humouredly. 

"  By  other  people !  "  Brooks  remarked,  smiling. 

"  That 's  as  it  may  be,"  Mr.  Bullsom  admitted. 
"  To  my  mind  that 's  where  the  art  of  the  thing  comes 


4  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

in.  Any  fool  can  work,  but  it  takes  a  shrewd  man 
to  keep  a  lot  of  others  working  hard  for  him  while 
he  pockets  the  oof  himself." 

"  I  suppose,"  the  younger  man  remarked,  thought- 
fully, "  that  you  would  consider  Mr.  Henslow  a 
shrewd  man  ?  " 

"  Shrewd !  Oh,  Henslow 's  shrewd  enough. 
There's  no  question  about  that!" 

"And  honest?" 

Mr.  Bullsom  hesitated.  He  drew  his  hand  down 
his  stubbly  grey  beard. 

"  Honest !  Oh,  yes,  he  's  honest !  You  've  no 
fault  to  find  with  him,  eh?  " 

"  None  whatever,"  Brooks  hastened  to  say.  "  You 
see,"  he  continued  more  slowly,  "  I  have  never  been 
really  behind  the  scenes  in  this  sort  of  thing  before, 
and  Henslow  has  such  a  very  earnest  manner  in  speak- 
ing. He  talked  to  the  working  men  last  night  as 
though  his  one  desire  in  life  was  to  further  the  differ- 
ent radical  schemes  which  we  have  on  the  programme. 
Why,  the  tears  were  actually  in  his  eyes  when  he 
spoke  of  the  Old  Age  Pension  Bill.  He  told  them 
over  and  over  again  that  the  passing  of  that  Bill  was 
the  one  object  of  his  political  career.  Then,  you 
know,  there  was  the  luncheon  to-day  —  and  I  fancied 
that  he  was  a  little  flippant  about  the  labour  vote.  It 
was  perhaps  only  his  way  of  speaking." 

Mr.  Bullsom  smiled  and  rubbed  the  carriage  win- 
dow with  the  cuff  of  his  coat.  He  was  very  hungry. 

"  Oh,  well,  a  politician  has  to  trim  a  little,  you 
know,"  he  remarked.  "  Votes  he  must  have,  and 
Henslow  has  a  very  good  idea  how  to  get  them. 
Here  we  are,  thank  goodness." 


KINGSTON  BROOKS,  POLITICAL  AGENT   5 

The  carriage  had  turned  up  a  short  drive,  and  de- 
posited them  before  the  door  of  a  highly  ornate  villa. 
Mr.  Bullsom  led  the  way  indoors,  and  himself  took 
charge  of  his  guest's  coat  and  hat.  Then  he  opened 
the  door  of  the  drawing-room. 

"  Mrs.  Bullsom  and  the  girls,"  he  remarked,  ur- 
banely, "  will  be  delighted  to  see  you.  Come  in!  " 


CHAPTER   II 

THE   BULLSOM    FAMILY    AT    HOME 

THERE  were  fans  upon  the  wall,  and  much  bric- 
a-brac  of  Oriental  shape  but  Brummagem 
finish,  a  complete  suite  of  drawing-room  furniture, 
incandescent  lights  of  fierce  brilliancy,  and  a  pianola. 
Mrs.  Peter  Bullsom,  stout  and  shiny  in  black  silk  and 
a  chatelaine,  was  dozing  peacefully  in  a  chair,  with  the 
latest  novel  from  the  circulating  library  in  her  lap; 
whilst  her  two  daughters,  in  evening  blouses,  which 
were  somehow  suggestive  of  the  odd  elevenpence, 
were  engrossed  in  more  serious  occupation.  Louise, 
the  elder,  whose  budding  resemblance  to  her  mother 
was  already  a  protection  against  the  over-amorous 
youths  of  the  town,  was  reading  a  political  speech  in 
the  Times.  Selina,  who  had  sandy  hair,  a  slight 
figure,  and  was  considered  by  her  family  the  essence 
of  refinement,  was  struggling  with  a  volume  of 
Cowper,  who  had  been  recommended  to  her  by  a 
librarian  with  a  sense  of  humour,  as  a  poet  unlikely  to 
bring  a  blush  into  her  virginal  cheeks.  Mr.  Bullsom 
looked  in  upon  his  domestic  circle  with  pardonable 
pride,  and  with  a  little  flourish  introduced  his  guest. 
"  Mrs.  Bullsom,"  he  said,  "this  is  my  young  friend, 
Kingston  Brooks.  My  two  daughters,  sir,  Louise  and 
Selina." 


THE   BULLSOM    FAMILY   AT   HOME       7 

The  ladies  were  gracious,  but  had  the  air  of  being 
taken  by  surprise,  which,  considering  Mr.  Bullsom's 
parting  words  a  few  hours  ago,  seemed  strange. 

"  We  've  had  a  great  meeting,"  Mr.  Bullsom  re- 
marked, sidling  towards  the  hearthrug,  and  with  his 
thumbs  already  stealing  towards  the  armholes  of  his 
waistcoat,  "  a  great  meeting,  my  dears.  Not  that  I 
am  surprised !  Oh,  no !  As  I  said  to  Padgett,  when 
he  insisted  that  I  should  take  the  chair,  '  Padgett/  I 
said,  '  mark  my  words,  we  're  going  to  surprise  the 
town.  Mr.  Henslow  may  not  be  the  most  popular 
candidate  we  've  ever  had,  but  he 's  on  the  right  side, 
and  those  who  think  Radicalism  has  had  its  day  in 
Medchester  will  be  amazed.'  And  so  they  have  been. 
I  've  dropped  a  few  hints  during  my  speeches  at  the 
ward  meetings  lately,  and  Mr.  Brooks,  though  he  's 
new  at  the  work,  did  his  best,  and  I  can  tell  you  the 
result  was  a  marvel.  The  hall  was  packed  —  simply 
packed.  When  I  rose  to  speak  there  was  n't  an  empty 
place  or  chair  to  be  seen." 

"  Dear  me ! "  Mrs.  Bullsom  remarked,  affably* 
"  Supper  is  quite  ready,  my  love." 

Mr.  Bullsom  abandoned  his  position  precipitately, 
and  his  face  expressed  his  lively  satisfaction. 

"  Ah !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  was  hoping  that  you 
would  have  a  bite  for  me.  As  I  said  to  Mr.  Brooks 
when  I  asked  him  to  drop  in  with  me,  there's  sure 
to  be  something  to  eat.  And  I  can  tell  you  I  'm  about 
ready  for  it." 

Brooks  found  an  opportunity  to  speak  almost  for 
the  first  time.  He  was  standing  between  the  two 
Misses  Bullsom,  and  already  they  had  approved  of 
him.  He  was  distinctly  of  a  different  class  from  the 


8  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

casual  visitors  whom  their  father  was  in  the  habit  of 
introducing  into  the  family  circle. 

"  Mr.  Bullsom  was  kind,  enough  to  take  pity  on  an 
unfortunate  bachelor,"  he  said,  with  a  pleasant  smile. 
"  My  landlady  has  few  faults,  but  an  over-love  of 
punctuality  is  one  of  them.  By  this  time  she  and  her 
household  are  probably  in  bed.  Our  meeting  lasted 
a  long  time." 

"  If  you  will  touch  the  bell,  Peter,"  Mrs.  Bullsom 
remarked,  "  Ann  shall  dish  up  the  supper." 

The  young  ladies  exchanged  shocked  glances. 
"  Dish  up."  What  an  abominable  phrase !  They 
looked  covertly  at  their  guest,  but  his  face  was  im- 
perturbable. 

"  We  think  that  we  have  been  very  considerate, 
Mr.  Brooks,"  Selina  remarked,  with  an  engaging 
smile.  "  We  gave  up  our  usual  dinner  this  evening 
as  papa  had  to  leave  so  early." 

Mr.  Brooks  smiled  as  he  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs. 
Bullsom  —  a  courtesy  which  much  embarrassed  her. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  we  shall  be  able  to  show 
you  some  practical  appreciation  of  your  thoughtful- 
ness.  I  know  nothing  so  stimulating  to  the  appetite 
as  politics,  and  to-day  we  have  been  so  busy  that  I 
missed  even  my  afternoon  tea." 

"  I  'm  sure  that  we  are  quite  repaid  for  giving 
up  our  dinner,"  Selina  remarked,  with  a  backward 
glance  at  the  young  man.  "  Oh,  here  you  are  at 
last,  Mary.  I  did  n't  hear  you  come  in." 

"  My  niece,  Miss  Scott,"  Mr.  Bullsom  announced. 
"  Now  you  know  all  the  family." 

A  plainly-dressed  girl  with  dark  eyes  and  unusu- 
ally pale  cheeks  returned  his  greeting  quietly,  and 


THE   BULLSOM    FAMILY   AT   HOME       9 

followed  them  into  the  dining-room.  Mrs.  Bullsom 
spread  herself  over  her  seat  with  a  little  sigh  of 
relief.  Brooks  gazed  in  silent  wonder  at  the  gilt- 
framed  oleographs  which  hung  thick  upon  the  walls, 
and  Mr.  Bullsom  stood  up  to  carve  a  joint  of  beef. 

"  Plain  fare,  Mr.  Brooks,  for  plain  people,"  he 
remarked,  gently  elevating  the  sirloin  on  his  fork, 
and  determining  upon  a  point  of  attack.  "  We  don't 
understand  frills  here,  but  we  've  a  welcome  for  our 
friends,  and  a  hearty  one." 

"  If  there  is  anything  in  the  world  better  than 
roast  beef,"  Brooks  remarked,  unfolding  his  ser- 
viette, "  I  have  n't  found  it." 

"  There 's  one  thing,"  Mr.  Bullsom  remarked, 
pausing  for  a  moment  in  his  labours,  "  I  can  give 
you  a  good  glass  of  wine.  Ann,  I  think  that  if  you 
look  in  the  right-hand  drawer  of  the  sideboard  you 
will  find  a  bottle  of  champagne.  If  not  I  '11  have  to 
go  down  into  the  cellar." 

Ann,  however,  produced  it  —  which,  considering 
that  Mr.  Bullsom  had  carefully  placed  it  there  a 
few  hours  ago,  was  not  extraordinary — and  Brooks 
sipped  the  wine  with  inward  tremors,  justified  by 
the  result. 

"  I  suppose,  Mr.  Brooks,"  Selina  remarked,  turn- 
ing towards  him  in  an  engaging  fashion,  "  that  you 
are  a  great  politician.  I  see  your  name  so  much  in 
the  papers." 

Brooks  smiled. 

"  My  political  career,"  he  answered,  "  dates  from 
yesterday  morning.  I  am  taking  Mr.  Morrison's 
place,  you  know,  as  agent  for  Mr.  Henslow.  I  have 
never  done  anything  of  the  sort  before,  and  I  have 


io  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

scarcely  any  claims  to  be  considered  a  politician  at 
all." 

"  A  very  lucky  change  for  us,  Brooks,"  Mr.  Bull- 
som  declared,  with  the  burly  familiarity  which  he 
considered  justified  by  his  position  as  chairman  of 
the  Radical  committee.  "  Poor  Morrison  was  past 
the  job.  It  was  partly  through  his  muddling  that 
we  lost  the  seat  at  the  last  election.  I  'd  made  up 
my  mind  to  have  a  change  this  time,  and  so  I  told 
'em." 

Brooks  was  tired  of  politics,  and  he  looked  across 
the  table.  This  pale  girl  with  the  tired  eyes  and 
self-contained  manner  interested  him.  The  differ- 
ence, too,  between  her  and  the  rest  of  the  family 
was  puzzling. 

"  I  believe,  Miss  Scott,"  he  said,  "  that  I  met  you 
at  the  Stuarts'  dance." 

"I  was  there,"  she  admitted.  "I  don't  think  I 
danced  with  you,  but  we  had  supper  at  the  same 
table." 

"  I  remember  it  perfectly,"  he  said.  "  Was  n't  it 
supposed  to  be  a  very  good  dance?" 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  I  believe  so,"  she  answered.  "  There  was  the 
usual  fault — too  many  girls.  But  it  was  very  pretty 
to  watch." 

"  You  do  not  care  for  dancing,  yourself,  perhaps?" 
he  hazarded. 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  she  declared.  "But  I  knew  scarcely 
any  one  there.  I  see  a  good  deal  of  Kate  sometimes, 
but  the  others  I  scarcely  know  at  all." 

"  You  were  in  the  same  position  as  I  was,  then," 
he  answered,  smiling. 


THE   BULLSOM   FAMILY  AT   HOME     il 

"  Oh,  you  —  you  are  different,"  she  remarked.  "I 
mean  that  you  are  a  man,  and  at  a  dance  that  means 
everything.  That  is  why  I  rather  dislike  dances.  We 
are  too  dependent  upon  you.  If  you  would  only  let 
us  dance  alone." 

Selina  smiled  in  a  superior  manner.  She  would 
have  given  a  good  deal  to  have  been  invited  to  the 
dance  in  question,  but  that  was  a  matter  which  she 
did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  mention. 

"  My  dear  Mary !  "  she  said,  "  what  an  idea.  I 
am  quite  sure  that  when  you  go  out  with  us  you  need 
never  have  any  difficulty  about  partners." 

"  Our  programmes  for  the  Liberal  Club  Dance  and 
the  County  Cricket  Ball  were  full  before  we  had  been 
in  the  room  five  minutes,"  Louise  interposed. 

Mary  smiled  inwardly,  but  said  nothing,  and  Brooks 
was  quite  sure  then  that  she  was  different.  He 
realized  too  that  her  teeth  were  perfect,  and  her 
complexion,  notwithstanding  its  pallor,  was  faultless. 
She  would  have  beep  strikingly  good-looking  but  for 
her  mouth,  and  that  —  was  it  a  discontented  or  a 
supercilious  curl?  At  any  rate  it  disappeared  when 
she  smiled. 

"  May  I  ask  whether  you  have  been  attending  a 
political  meeting  this  evening,  Miss  Scott  ? "  he 
asked.  "  You  came  in  after  us,  I  think." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  I  have  a  class  on  Wednesday  evening." 

"  A  class !  "  he  repeated,  doubtfully. 

Mr.  Bullsom,  who  thought  he  had  been  out  of  the 
conversation  long  enough,  interposed. 

"  Mary  calls  herself  a  bit  of  a  philanthropist,  you 
see,  Mr.  Brooks/'  he  explained.  "  Goes  down  into 


12  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Medchester  and  teaches  factory  girls  to  play  the 
piano  on  Wednesday  evenings.  Much  good  may  it 
do  them." 

There  was  a  curious  gleam  in  the  girl's  eyes  for 
a  moment  which  checked  the  words  on  Brooks'  lips, 
and  led  him  to  precipitately  abandon  the  conversation. 
But  afterwards,  while  Selina  was  pedalling  at  the 
pianola  and  playing  havoc  with  the  expression-stops, 
he  crossed  the  room  and  stood  for  a  moment  by  her 
chair. 

"  I  should  like  you  to  tell  me  about  your  class," 
he  said.  "I  have  several  myself — of  different  sorts." 

She  closed  her  magazine,  but  left  her  finger  in 
the  place. 

"  Oh,  mine  is  a  very  unambitious  undertaking," 
she  said.  "  Kate  Stuart  and  I  started  it  for  the  girls 
in  her  father's  factory,  and  we  aim  at  nothing  higher 
than  an  attempt  to  direct  their  taste  in  fiction.  They 
bring  their  Free  Library  lists  to  us,  and  we  mark  them 
together.  Then  we  all  read  one  more  serious  book  at 
the  same  time  —  history  or  biography  —  and  talk 
about  it  when  we  meet." 

"  It  is  an  excellent  idea,"  he  said,  earnestly.  "  By 
the  bye,  something  occurs  to  me.  You  know,  or 
rather  you  don't  know,  that  I  give  free  lectures 
on  certain  books  or  any  simple  literary  subject  on 
tWednesday  evenings  at  the  Secular  Hall  when  this 
electioneering  isn't  on.  Couldn't  you  bring  your 
girls  one  evening?  I  would  be  guided  in  my  choice 
of  a  subject  by  you." 

"  Yes,  I  should  like  that,"  she  answered,  "  and  I 
think  the  girls  would.  It  is  very  good  of  you  to 
suggest  it." 


THE   BULLSOM    FAMILY   AT   HOME     13 

Louise,  with  a  great  book  under  her  arm,  deposited 
her  dumpy  person  in  a  seat  by  his  side,  and  looked 
up  at  him  with  a  smile  of  engaging  candour. 

"  Mr.  Brooks,"  she  said,  "  I  am  going  to  do  a 
terrible  thing.  I  am  going  to  show  you  some  of  my 
sketches  and  ask  your  opinion." 

Brooks  turned  towards  her  without  undue  en- 
thusiasm. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you,  Miss  Bullsom,"  he  said, 
doubtfully ;  "  but  I  never  drew  a  straight  line  in  my 
life,  and  I  know  nothing  whatever  about  perspective. 
My  opinion  would  be  worse  than  worthless." 

Louise  giggled  artlessly,  and  turned  over  the  first 
few  pages. 

"  You  men  all  say  that  at  first,"  she  declared,  "  and 
then  you  turn  out  such  terrible  critics.  I  declare  I  'm 
afraid  to  show  them  to  you,  after  all." 

Brooks  scarcely  showed  that  desire  to  overcome 
her  new  resolution  which  politeness  demanded.  But 
Selina  came  tripping  across  the  room,  and  took  up 
her  position  on  the  other  side  of  him. 

"  You  must  show  them  now  you  've  brought  them 
out,  Louise,"  she  declared.  "  I  am  sure  that  Mr. 
Brooks'  advice  will  be  most  valuable.  But  mind,  if 
you  dare  to  show  mine,  I  '11  tear  them  into  pieces." 

"  I  was  n't  going  to,  dear,"  Louise  declared,  a 
little  tartly.  "  Shall  I  begin  at  the  beginning,  Mr. 
Brooks,  or " 

"  Oh,  don't  show  those  first  few,  dear,"  Selina 
exclaimed.  "  You  know  they  're  not  nearly  so  good 
as  some  of  the  others.  That  mill  is  all  out  of 
drawing." 

Mary,  who  had  been  elbowed  into  the  background, 


I4  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

rose  quietly  and  crossed  to  the  other  end  of  the 
room.  Brooks  followed  her  for  a  moment  with  re- 
gretful eyes.  Her  simple  gown,  with  the  little  piece 
of  ribbon  around  her  graceful  neck,  seemed  almost 
distinguished  by  comparison  with  the  loud-patterned 
and  dressier  blouses  of  the  two  girls  who  had  now 
hemmed  him  in.  For  a  moment  he  ignored  the  wait- 
ing pages. 

"  Your  cousin,"  he  remarked,  "  is  quite  unlike  any 
of  you.  Has  she  been  with  you  long?  " 

Louise  looked  up  a  little  tartly. 

"  Oh,  about  three  years.  You  are  quite  right  when 
you  say  that  she  is  unlike  any  of  us.  It  does  n't  seem 
nice  to  complain  about  her  exactly,  but  she  really  is 
terribly  trying,  isn't  she,  Selina?" 

Selina  nodded,  and  dropped  her  voice. 

"  She  is  getting  worse,"  she  declared.  "  She  is 
becoming  a  positive  trouble  to  us." 

Brooks  endeavoured  to  look  properly  sympathetic, 
and  considered  himself  justified  in  pursuing  the 
conversation. 

"  Indeed !    May  I  ask  in  what  way  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she  has  such  old-fashioned  ideas,"  Louise 
said,  confidentially.  "  I  've  quite  lost  patience  with 
her,  and  so  has  Selina ;  have  n't  you,  dear  ?  She 
never  goes  to  parties  if  she  can  help  it,  she  is  posi- 
tively rude  to  all  our  friends,  and  the  sarcastic  things 
she  says  sometimes  are  most  unpleasant.  You  know, 
papa  is  very,  very  good  to  her." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  Selina  interrupted.  "  You  know, 
Mr.  Brooks,  she  has  no  father  and  mother,  and  she 
was  living  quite  alone  in  London  when  papa  found 
her  out  and  brought  her  here  —  and  in  the  most 


THE   BULLSOM   FAMILY   AT   HOME     15- 

abject  poverty.  I  believe  he  found  her  in  a  garret. 
Fancy  that !  " 

"  And  now,"  Louise  continued,  "  he  allows  her  for 
her  clothes  exactly  the  same  as  he  does  us  —  and  look 
at  her.  Would  you  believe  it,  now  ?  She  is  like  that 
nearly  every  evening,  although  we  have  friends  drop- 
ping in  continually.  Of  course  I  don't  believe  in 
extravagance,  but  if  a  girl  has  relations  who  are 
generous  enough  to  give  her  the  means,  I  do  think 
that,  for  their  sake,  she  ought  to  dress  properly.  I 
;hink  that  she  owes  it  to  them,  as  well  as  to  herself." 

"  And  out  of  doors  it  is  positively  worse,"  Selina 
whispered,  impressively.  "  I  declare,"  she  added, 
with  a  simper,  "  that  although  nobody  can  say  that 
I  am  proud,  there  are  times  when  I  am  positively 
ashamed  to  be  seen  out  with  her.  What  she  does 
with  her  money  I  can't  imagine." 

Brooks,  who  was  something  of  a  critic  in  such 
matters,  and  had  recognized  the  art  of  her  severely 
simple  gown,  smiled  to  himself.  He  was  wise  enough, 
however,  not  to  commit  himself. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  suggested,  "  she  thinks  that  absolute 
simplicity  suits  her  best.  She  has  a  nice  figure." 

Selina  tossed  her  much-beaded  slipper  impatiently. 

"  Heaven  only  knows  what  Mary  does  think,"  she 
exclaimed,  impatiently. 

"  And  Heaven  only  knows  what  I  am  to  say  about 
these,"  Brooks  groaned  inwardly,  as  the  sketch-book 
fell  open  before  him  at  last,  and  its  contents  were 
revealed  to  his  astonished  eyes. 


CHAPTER   III 

KINGSTON    BROOKS    HAS   A   VISITOR 

KINGSTON  BROOKS  was  twenty-five  years  old, 
strong,  nervous,  and  with  a  strenuous  desire  to 
make  his  way  so  far  as  was  humanly  possible  into 
the  heart  of  life.  He  was  a  young  solicitor  recently 
established  in  Medchester,  without  friends  save  those 
he  was  now  making,  and  absolutely  without  interest 
of  any  sort.  He  had  a  small  capital,  and  already  the 
beginnings  of  a  practice.  He  had-  some  sort  of  a 
reputation  as  a  speaker,  and  was  well  spoken  of  by 
those  who  had  entrusted  business  to  him.  Yet  he  was 
still  fighting  for  a  living  when  this  piece  of  luck  had 
befallen  him.  Mr.  Bullsom  had  entrusted  a  small 
case  to  him,  and  found  him  capable  and  cheap. 
Amongst  that  worthy  gentleman's  chief  characteris- 
tics was  a  decided  weakness  for  patronizing  younger 
and  less  successful  men,  and  he  went  everywhere  with 
Kingston  Brooks'  name  on  his  lips.  Then  came  the 
election,  and  the  sudden  illness  of  Mr.  Morrison,  who 
had  always  acted  as  agent  for  the  Radical  candidates 
for  the  borough.  Another  agent  had  to  be  found. 
Several  who  would  have  been  suitable  were  unavail- 
able. An  urgent  committee  meeting  was  held,  and 
Mr.  Bullsom  at  once  called  attention  to  an  excellent 
little  speech  of  Kingston  Brooks'  at  a  ward  meeting 
on  the  previous  night.  In  an  hour  he  was  closeted 


KINGSTON   BROOKS   HAS   A   VISITOR    17 

with  the  young  lawyer,  and  the  affair  was  settled. 
Brooks  knew  that  henceforth  the  material  side  of  his 
career  would  be  comparatively  easy  sailing. 

He  had  accepted  his  good  fortune  with  something 
of  the  same  cheerful  philosophy  with  which  he  had 
seen  difficulty  loom  up  in  his  path  a  few  months  ago. 
But  to-night,  on  his  way  home  from  Mr.  Bullsom's 
suburban  residence,  a  different  mood  possessed  him. 
Usually  a  self-contained  and  somewhat  gravely- 
minded  person,  to-night  the  blood  went  tingling 
through  his  veins  with  a  new  and  unaccustomed 
warmth.  He  carried  himself  blithely,  the  cool  night 
air  was  so  grateful  and  sweet  to  him  that  he  had 
no  mind  even  to  smoke.  There  seemed  to  be  no 
tangible  reason  for  the  change.  The  political  ex- 
citement, which  a  few  weeks  ago  he  had  begun  to  feel 
exhilarating,  had  for  him  decreased  now  that  his 
share  in  it  lay  behind  the  scenes,  and  he  found  him- 
self wholly  occupied  with  the  purely  routine  work  of 
the  election.  Nor  was  there  any  sufficient  explana- 
tion to  be  found  in  the  entertainment  which  he  had 
felt  himself  bound  to  accept  at  Mr.  Bullsom's  hands. 
Of  the  wine,  which  had  been  only  tolerable,  he  had 
drunk,  as  was  his  custom,  sparingly,  and  of  Mary 
Scott,  who  had  certainly  interested  him  in  a  manner 
which  the  rest  of  the  family  had  not,  he  had  after  all 
seen  but  very  little.  He  found  himself  thinking  with 
fervour  of  the  desirable  things  in  life,  never  had  the 
various  tasks  which  he  had  set  himself  seemed  so  easy 
of  accomplishment,  his  own  powers  more  real  and 
alive.  And  beneath  it  all  he  was  conscious  of  a  vague 
sense  of  excitement,  a  nervous  dancing  of  the  blood, 
as  though  even  now  the  time  were  at  hand  when  he 


i8  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

might  find  himself  in  touch  with  some  of  the  greater 
forces  of  life,  all  of  which  he  intended  some  day  to 
realize.  It  was  delightful  after  all  to  be  young  and 
strong,  to  be  stripped  for  the  race  in  the  morning  of 
life,  when  every  indrawn  breath  seems  sweet  with  the 
perfume  of  beautiful  things,  and  the  heart  is  tuned  to 
music. 

The  fatigue  of  the  day  was  wholly  forgotten. 
He  was  surprised  indeed  when  he  found  himself 
in  the  little  street  where  his  rooms  were.  A  small 
brougham  was  standing  at  the  corner,  the  liveries 
and  horse  of  which,  though  quiet  enough,  caused  him 
a  moment's  surprise  as  being  superior  to  the  ordinary 
equipages  of  the  neighbourhood.  He  passed  on  to  the 
sober-fronted  house  where  he  lived,  and  entering 
with  his  latch-key  made  his  way  to  his  study.  Im- 
mediately he  entered  he  was  conscious  of  a  man 
comfortably  seated  in  his  easy-chair,  and  apparently 
engrossed  in  a  magazine. 

He  advanced  towards  him  inquiringly,  and  his 
visitor,  carefully  setting  down  the  magazine,  rose 
slowly  to  his  feet.  The  young  man's  surprise  at  find- 
ing his  rooms  occupied  was  increased  by  the  appear- 
ance of  his  visitor.  He  was  apparently  of  more  than 
middle  age,  with  deeply-lined  face,  tall,  and  with  an 
expression  the  coldness  of  which  was  only  slightly 
mitigated  by  a  sensitive  mouth  that  seemed  at  once 
cynical  and  humorous.  He  was  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary height,  and  dressed  in  the  plainest  dinner  garb 
of  the  day,  but  his  dinner  jacket,  his  black  tie  and  the 
set  of  his  shirt  were  revelations  to  Brooks,  who  dealt 
only  with  the  Medchester  tradespeople.  He  did  not 
hold  out  his  hand,  but  he  eyed  Brooks  with  a  sort 


KINGSTON   BROOKS   HAS   A  VISITOR    ig> 

of  critical  survey,  which  the  latter  found  a  little 
disconcerting. 

"You  wished  to  see  me,  sir?"  Brooks  asked.  "My 
name  is  Kingston  Brooks,  and  these  are  my  rooms." 

"  So  I  understood,"  the  new-comer  replied  imper- 
turbably.  "  I  called  about  an  hour  ago,  and  took  the 
liberty  of  awaiting  your  return."  t 

Brooks  sat  down.  His  vis-a-vis  was  calmly  select- 
ing a  cigarette  from  a  capacious  case.  Brooks  found 
himself  offering  a  light  and  accepting  a  cigarette  him- 
self, the  flavour  of  which  he  at  once  appreciated. 

"  Can  I  offer  you  a  whisky-and-soda?"  he  inquired. 

"  I  thank  you,  no,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

There  was  a  short  pause. 

"  You  wished  to  see  me  on  some  business  connected 
with  the  election,  no  doubt?  "  Brooks  suggested. 

His  visitor  shook  his  head  slowly.  He  knocked  the 
ash  from  his  cigarette  and  smiled  whimsically. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  "  I  have  n't  the  least 
idea  why  I  came  to  see  you  this  evening." 

Brooks  felt  that  he  had  a  right  to  be  puzzled,  and 
he  looked  it.  But  his  visitor  was  so  evidently  a  gen- 
tleman and  a  person  of  account,  that  the  obvious 
rejoinder  did  not  occur  to  him.  He  merely  waited 
with  uplifted  eyebrows. 

"  Not  the  least  idea,"  his  visitor  repeated,  still 
smiling.  "  But  at  the  same  time  I  fancy  that  before 
I  leave  you  I  shall  find  myself  explaining,  or  en- 
deavouring to  explain,  not  why  I  am  here,  but  why 
I  have  not  visited  you  before.  What  do  you  think 
of  that?" 

"  I  find  it,"  Brooks  answered,  "  enigmatic  but 
interesting." 


20  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  Exactly.  Well,  I  hate  talking,  so  my  explanation 
will  not  be  a  tedious  one.  Your  name  is  Kingston 
Brooks." 

"  Yes." 

"  Your  mother's  name  was  Dorothy  Kenneir.  She 
was,  before  her  marriage,  the  matron  of  a  home  in 
the  East  End  of  JLondon,  and  a  lady  devoted  to 
philanthropic  work.  Your  father  was  a  police-court 
missionary." 

Brooks  was  leaning  a  little  forward  in  his  chair. 
These  things  were  true  enough.  Who  was  his  visitor  ? 
'  "  Your  father,  through  over-devotion  to  the  phil- 
anthropic works  in  which  he  was  engaged,  lost  his 
reason  temporarily,  and  on  his  partial  recovery  I 
understand  that  the  doctors  considered  him  still  to 
be  mentally  in  a  very  weak  state.  They  ordered  him 
a  sea  voyage.  He  left  England  on  the  Corinthia 
fifteen  years  ago,  and  I  believe  that  you  heard  nothing 
more  of  him  until  you  received  the  news  of  his  death 
—  probably  ten  years  back." 

"  Yes !    Ten  years  ago." 

"  Your  mother,  I  think,  lived  for  only  a  few  months 
after  your  father  left  England.  You  found  a  guar- 
dian in  Mr.  Ascough  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  There 
my  knowledge  of  your  history  ceases." 

"  How  do  you  know  these  things?  "  Brooks  asked. 

"  I  was  with  your  father  when  he  died.  It  was 
I  who  wrote  to  you  and  sent  his  effects  to  England." 

"You  were  there  —  in  Canada?" 

"  Yes.  I  had  a  dwelling  within  a  dozen  miles  of 
where  your  father  had  built  his  hut  by  the  side  of 
the  great  lake.  He  was  the  only  other  Englishman 
within  a  hundred  miles.  So  I  was  with  him  often." 


KINGSTON   BROOKS   HAS   A  VISITOR    21 

"  It  is  wonderful  —  after  all  these  years,"  Brooks 
exclaimed.  "  You  were  there  for  sport,  of  course?  " 

"For  sport!"  his  visitor  repeated  in  a  colourless 
tone. 

"  But  my  father  —  what  led  him  there?  Why  did 
he  cut  himself  off  from  every  one,  send  no  word  home, 
creep  away  into  that  lone  country  to  die  by  himself? 
It  is  horrible  to  think  of." 

:<  Your  father  was  not  a  communicative  man.  He 
spoke  of  his  illness.  I  always  considered  him  as  a 
person  mentally  shattered.  He  spent  his  days  alone, 
looking  out  across  the  lake  or  wandering  in  the 
woods.  He  had  no  companions,  of  course,  but  there 
were  always  animals  around  him.  He  had  the  look 
of  a  man  who  had  suffered." 

"  He  was  to  have  gone  to  Australia,"  Brooks  said. 
"  It  was  from  there  that  we  expected  news  from  him. 
I  cannot  see  what  possible  reason  he  had  for  changing 
his  plans.  There  was  no  mystery  about  his  life  in 
London.  It  was  one  splendid  record  of  self-denial 
and  devotion  to  what  he  thought  his  duty." 

"  From  what  he  told  me?'  his  fiis-a-vis  continued, 
handing  again  his  cigarette-case,  and  looking  steadily 
into  the  fire,  "  he  seems  to  have  left  England  with  the 
secret  determination  never  to  return.  But  why  I  do 
not  know.  One  thing  is  certain.  His  mental  state 
was  not  altogether  healthy.  His  desire  for  solitude 
was  almost  a  passion.  Towards  the  end,  however, 
his  mind  wras  clear  enough.  He  told  me  about  your 
mother  and  you,  and  he  handed  me  all  the  papers, 
which  I  subsequently  sent  to  London.  He  spoke  of 
no  trouble,  and  his  transition  was  quite  peaceful." 

"  It  was  a  cruel  ending,"   Brooks  said,  quietly. 


22  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  There  were  people  in  London  whom  he  had  be- 
friended who  would  have  worked  their  passage  out 
and  faced  any  hardships  to  be  with  him.  And  my 
mother,  notwithstanding  his  desertion,  believed  in 
him  to  the  last" 

There  was  a  moment's  intense  silence.  This  visitor 
who  had  come  so  strangely  was  to  all  appearance  a 
man  not  easily  to  be  moved.  Yet  Brooks  fancied  that 
the  long  white  ringers  were  trembling,  and  that  the 
strange  quiet  of  his  features  was  one  of  intense  self- 
repression.  His  tone  when  he  spoke  again,  however, 
was  clear,  and  almost  indifferent. 

"  I  feel,"  he  said,  "  that  it  would  have  been  only 
decently  courteous  of  me  to  have  sought  you  out 
before,  although  I  have,  as  you  see,  nothing  whatever 
to  add  to  the  communications  I  sent  you.  But  I  have 
not  been  a  very  long  time  in  England,  and  I  have  a 
very  evil  habit  of  putting  off  things  concerning  which 
there  is  no  urgency.  I  called  at  Ascough's,  and 
learned  that  you  were  in  practice  in  Medchester.  I 
am  now  living  for  a  short  time  not  far  from  here, 
and  reading  of  the  election,  I  drove  in  to-night  to 
attend  one  of  the  meetings  —  I  scarcely  cared  which. 
I  heard  your  name,  saw  you  on  the  platform,  and 
called  here,  hoping  to  find  you." 

"  It  was  very  kind,"  Brooks  said. 

He  felt  curiously  tongue-tied.  This  sudden  up- 
heaval of  a  past  which  he  had  never  properly  under- 
stood affected  him  strangely. 

"  I  gathered  from  Mr.  Ascough  that  you  were  left 
sufficient  means  to  pay  for  your  education,  and  also 
to  start  you  in  life,"  his  visitor  continued.  "  Yours 
is  considered  to  be  an  overcrowded  profession,  but 


KINGSTON   BROOKS   HAS   A  VISITOR    23 

I  am  glad  to  understand  that  you  seem  likely  to  make 
your  way." 

Brooks  thanked  him  absently. 

"  From  your  position  on  the  platform  to-night  I 
gather  that  you  are  a  politician?" 

"  Scarcely  that,"  Brooks  answered.  "  I  was  for- 
tunate enough  to  be  appointed  agent  to  Mr.  Henslow 
owing  to  the  illness  of  another  man.  It  will  help  me 
in  my  profession." 

The  visitor  rose  to  his  feet.  He  stood  with  his 
hands  behind  him,  looking  at  the  younger  man.  And 
Brooks  suddenly  remembered  that  he  did  not  even 
know  his  name. 

"  You  will  forgive  me,"  he  said,  also  rising,  "  if 
I  have  seemed  a  little  dazed.  I  am  very  grateful  to 
you  for  coming.  I  have  always  wanted  more  than 
anything  in  the  world  to  meet  some  one  who  saw  my 
father  after  he  left  England.  There  is  so  much 
which  even  now  seems  mysterious  with  regard  to  his 
disappearance  from  the  world." 

"  I  fear  that  you  will  never  discover  more  than  you 
have  done  from  me,"  was  the  quiet  reply.  "  Your 
father  had  been  living  for  years  in  profound  solitude 
when  I  found  him.  Frankly,  I  considered  from  the 
first  that  his  mind  was  unhinged.  Therein  I  fancy 
lies  the  whole  explanation  of  his  silence  and  his  volun- 
tary disappearance.  I  am  assuming,  of  course,  that 
there  was  nothing  in  England  to  make  his  absence 
desirable." 

"  There  was  nothing,"  Brooks  declared  with  con- 
viction. "  That  I  can  personally  vouch  for.  His  life 
as  a  police-court  missionary  was  the  life  of  a  militant 
martyr's,  the  life  of  a  saint.  The  urgent  advice  of  his 


24  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

physicians  alone  led  him  to  embark  upon  that  voyage ; 
I  see  now  that  it  was  a  mistake.  He  left  before  he  had 
sufficiently  recovered  to  be  safely  trusted  alone.  By 
the  bye,"  Brooks  continued,  after  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation, "  you  have  not  told  me  your  name,  whom  I 
have  to  thank  for  this  kindness.  Your  letters  from 
Canada  were  not  signed." 

There  was  a  short  silence.  From  outside  came  the 
sound  of  the  pawing  of  horses'  feet  and  the  jingling 
of  harness. 

"  I  was  a  fellow-traveller  in  that  great  unpeopled 
world,"  the  visitor  said,  "  and  there  was  nothing  but 
common  humanity  in  anything  I  did.  I  lived  out 
there  as  Philip  Ferringshaw,  here  I  have  to  add  my 
title,  the  Marquis  of  Arranmore.  I  was  a  younger 
son  in  those  days.  If  there  is  anything  which  I  have 
forgotten,  I  am  at  Enton  for  a  month  or  so.  It  is  an 
easy  walk  from  Medchester,  if  your  clients  can  spare 
you  for  an  afternoon.  Good-night,  Mr.  Brooks." 

He  held  out  his  hand.  He  was  sleepy  apparently, 
for  his  voice  had  become  almost  a  drawl,  and  he 
stifled  a  yawn  as  he  passed  along  the  little  passage. 
Kingston  Brooks  returned  to  his  little  room,  and 
threw  himself  back  into  his  easy-chair.  Truly  this 
had  been  a  wonderful  day. 


CHAPTER   IV 

A   QUESTION    FOR    THE    COUNTRY 

FOR  the  first  time  in  many  years  it  seemed  certain 
that  the  Conservatives  had  lost  their  hold  upon 
the  country.  The  times  were  ripe  for  a  change  of 
any  sort.  An  ill-conducted  and  ruinous  war  had 
drained  the  empire  of  its  surplus  wealth,  and  every 
known  industry  was  suffering  from  an  almost  para- 
lyzing depression  —  Medchester,  perhaps,  as  severely 
as  any  town  in  the  United  Kingdom.  Its  staple 
manufactures  were  being  imported  from  the  States 
and  elsewhere  at  prices  which  the  local  manufacturers 
declared  to  be  ruinous.  Many  of  the  largest  factories 
were  standing  idle,  a  great  majority  of  the  remainder 
were  being  worked  at  half  or  three-quarters  time. 
Thoughtful  men,  looking  ten  years  ahead,  saw  the 
cloud,  which  even  now  was  threatening  enough,  grow 
blacker  and  blacker,  and  shuddered  at  the  thought  of 
the  tempest  which  before  long  must  break  over  the 
land.  Meanwhile,  the  streets  were  filled  with  un- 
employed, whose  demeanour  day  by  day  grew  less 
and  less  pacific.  People  asked  one  another  helplessly 
what  was  being  done  to  avert  the  threatened  crisis. 
The  manufacturers,  openly  threatened  by  their  dis- 
charged employees,  and  cajoled  by  others  higher  in 
authority  and  by  public  opinion,  still  pronounced 


26  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

themselves  helpless  to  move  without  the  aid  of  legis- 
lation. For  the  first  time  for  years  Protection  was 
openly  spoken  of  from  a  political  platform. 

Henslow,  a  shrewd  man  and  a  politician  of  some 
years'  standing,  was  one  of  the  first  to  read  the  signs 
of  the  times,  and  rightly  to  appreciate  them.  He  had 
just  returned  from  a  lengthened  visit  to  the  United 
States,  and  what  he  had  seen  there  he  kept  at  first 
very  much  to  himself.  But  at  a  small  committee 
meeting  held  when  his  election  was  still  a  matter  of 
doubt,  he  unbosomed  himself  at  last  to  some  effect. 

"  The  vote  we  want,"  he  said,  "  is  the  vote  of  those 
people  who  are  losing  their  bread,  and  who  see  ruin 
and  starvation  coming  in  upon  them.  I  mean  the 
middle-class  manufacturers  and  the  operatives  who 
are  dependent  upon  them.  I  tell  you  where  I  think 
that  as  a  nation  we  are  going  wrong.  We  fixed  once 
upon  a  great  principle,  and  we  nailed  it  to  our  mast 
—  for  all  time.  That  is  a  mistake.  Absolute  Free 
Trade,  such  as  is  at  present  our  national  policy,  was 
a  magnificent  principle  in  the  days  of  Cobden  —  but 
the  times  have  changed.  We  must  change  with  them. 
That  is  where  the  typical  Englishman  fails.  It  is  a 
matter  of  temperament.  He  is  too  slow  to  adapt  him- 
self to  changing  circumstances." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  These  were  omi- 
nous words.  Every  one  felt  that  they  were  not  lightly 
spoken.  Henslow  had  more  behind.  A  prominent 
manufacturer,  Harrison  by  name,  interposed  from 
his  place. 

"  You  are  aware,  Air.  Henslow,"  he  said,  "  that 
many  a  man  has  lost  an  assured  seat  for  a  more 
guarded  speech  than  that.  For  generations  even  a 


A   QUESTION    FOR   THE   COUNTRY      27 

whisper  of  the  sort  has  been  counted  heresy  —  es- 
pecially from  our  party." 

"  Maybe,"  Henslow  answered,  "  but  I  am  reminded 
of  this,  Mr.  Harrison.  The  pioneers  of  every  great 
social  change  have  suffered  throughout  the  whole  of 
history,  but  the  man  who  has  selected  the  proper 
moment  and  struck  hard,  has  never  failed  to  win  his 
reward.  Now  I  am  no  novice  in  politics,  and  I  am 
going  to  make  a  prophecy.  Years  ago  the  two  po- 
litical parties  were  readjusted  on  the  Irish  question. 
Every  election  which  was  fought  was  simply  on  these 
lines  —  it  was  upon  the  principle  of  Home  Rule  for 
Ireland,  and  the  severance  of  that  country  from  the 
United  Kingdom,  or  the  maintenance  of  the  Union. 
Good !  Now,  in  more  recent  times,  the  South  African 
war  and  the  realization  of  what  our  Colonies  could  do 
for  us  has  introduced  a  new  factor.  Those  who  have 
believed  in  a  doctrine  of  expansion  have  called  them- 
selves '  Imperialists,'  and  those  who  have  favoured 
less  wide-reaching  ideals,  and  perhaps  more  attention 
to  home  matters,  have  been  christened  '  Little  Eng- 
landers.'  Many  elections  have  been  fought  out  on 
these  lines,  if  not  between  two  men  absolutely  at 
variance  with  one  another  on  this  question,  still  on 
the  matter  of  degree.  Now,  I  am  going  to  prophesy. 
I  say  that  the  next  readjustment  of  Parties,  and  the 
time  is  not  far  ahead,  will  be  on  the  tariff  question, 
and  I  believe  that  the  controversy  on  this  matter, 
when  once  the  country  has  laid  hold  of  it,  will  be  the 
greatest  political  event  of  this  century.  Listen,  gen- 
tlemen. I  do  not  speak  without  having  given  this 
question  careful  and  anxious  thought,  and  I  tell  you 
that  I  can  see  it  coming." 


28 

The  committee  meeting  broke  up  at  a  late  Hour 
in  the  afternoon  amidst  some  excitement,  and  Mr. 
Bullsom  walked  back  to  his  office  with  Brooks.  A 
fine  rain  was  falling,  and  the  two  men  were  close 
together  under  one  umbrella. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it,  Brooks?"  Bullsom 
asked  anxiously. 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  scarcely  know,"  the 
younger  answered.  "  Ten  years  ago  there  could 
have  been  but  one  answer  —  to-day  —  well,  look 
there." 

The  two  men  stood  still  for  a  moment.  They  were 
in  the  centre  of  the  town,  at  a  spot  from  which  the 
main  thoroughfares  radiated  into  the  suburbs  and 
manufacturing  centres.  Everywhere  the  pavements 
and  the  open  space  where  a  memorial  tower  stood 
were  crowded  with  loiterers.  Men  in  long  lines  stood 
upon  the  kerbstones,  their  hands  in  their  pockets, 
watching,  waiting  —  God  knows  for  what.  There 
were  all  sorts,  of  course,  the  professional  idlers  and 
the  drunkard  were  there,  but  the  others  —  there  was 
no  lack  of  them.  There  was  no  lack  of  men,  white- 
faced,  dull-eyed,  dejected,  some  of  them  actually  with 
the  brand  of  starvation  to  be  seen  in  their  sunken 
cheeks  and  wasted  limbs.  No  wonder  that  the  swing- 
doors  of  the  public-houses,  where  there  was  light  and 
warmth  inside,  opened  and  shut  continually. 

"  Look,"  Brooks  repeated,  with  a  tremor  in  his 
tone.  "  There  are  thousands  and  thousands  of  them 
—  and  all  of  them  must  have  some  sort  of  a  home  to 
go  to.  Fancy  it  —  one's  womankind,  perhaps  chil- 
dren— and  nothing  to  take  home  to  them.  It's  such 
an  old  story,  that  it  sounds  hackneyed  and  common- 


A   QUESTION   FOR   THE   COUNTRY      29 

place.    But  God  knows  there 's  no  other  tragedy  on 
His  earth  like  it." 

Mr.  Bullsom  was  uncomfortable. 

"  I  've  given  a  hundred  pounds  to  the  Unemployed 
Fund,"  he  said. 

"  It 's  money  well  spent  if  it  had  been  a  thousand," 
Brooks  answered.  "  Some  day  they  may  learn  their 
strength,  and  they  will  not  suffer  then,  like  brute 
animals,  in  silence.  Look  here.  I  'm  going  to  speak 
to  one  of  them." 

He  touched  a  tall  youth  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Out  of  work,  my  lad?  "  he  asked. 

The  youth  turned  surlily  round. 

"  Yes.    Looks  like  it,  don't  it?  " 

"  What  are  you?  "  Brooks  asked. 

"  Clicker." 

"  Why  did  you  leave  your  last  place?  " 

"  Gaffer  said  he  's  no  more  orders  —  could  n't 
keep  us  on.  The  shop  's  shut  up.  Know  of  a  job, 
guv'nor?"  he  asked,  with  a  momentary  eagerness. 
"  I  've  two  characters  in  my  pocket  —  good  'uns." 

"  You  've  tried  to  get  a  place  elsewhere?  "  Brooks 
asked. 

"  Tried  ?  D'  ye  suppose  I  'm  standing  here  for  fun  ? 
I  've  tramped  the  blessed  town.  I  went  to  thirty 
factories  yesterday,  and  forty  to-day.  Know  of  a 
job,  guv'nor?  I  'm  not  particular." 

"I  wish  I  did,"  Brooks  answered,  simply.  "Here's 
half-a-crown.  Go  to  that  coffee-palace  over  there  and 
get  a  meal.  It 's  all  I  can  do  for  you." 

"  Good  for  you,  guv'nor,"  was  the  prompt  answer. 
"  I  can  treat  my  brother  on  that.  Here,  Ned,"  he 
caught  hold  of  a  younger  boy  by  the  shoulder,  "  hot 
coffee  and  eggs,  you  sinner.  Come  on." 


30  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

The  two  scurried  off  together.  Brooks  and  his 
companion  passed  on. 

"  It  is  just  this,"  Brooks  said,  in  a  low  tone,  "  just 
the  thought  of  these  people  makes  me  afraid,  posi- 
tively afraid  to  argue  with  Henslow.  You  see  —  he 
may  be  right.  I  tell  you  that  in  a  healthily-governed 
country  there  should  be  work  for  every  man  who  is 
able  and  willing  to  work.  And  in  England  there 
is  n't.  Free  Trade  works  out  all  right  logically,  but 
it 's  one  thing  to  see  it  all  on  paper,  and  it 's  another 
to  see  this  —  here  around  us  —  and  Medchester  is  n't 
the  worst  off  by  any  means." 

Bullsom  was  silent  for  several  moments. 

"I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Brooks,"  he  said.  "I'll 
send  another  hundred  to  the  Unemployed  Fund 
to-night." 

"  It 's  generous  of  you,  Mr.  Bullsom,"  the  young 
lawyer  answered.  "  You  '11  never  regret  it.  But 
look  here.  There 's  a  greater  responsibility  even  than 
feeding  these  poor  fellows  resting  upon  us  to-day. 
They  don't  want  our  charity.  They  've  an  equal  right 
to  live  with  us.  What  they  want,  and  what  they  have 
a  right  to,  is  just  legislation.  That 's  where  we  come 
in.  Politics  is  n't  a  huge  joke,  or  the  vehicle  for  any 
one  man's  personal  ambition.  We  who  interest  our- 
selves, however  remotely,  in  them,  impose  upon  our- 
selves a  great  obligation.  We  Ve  got  to  find  the 
truth.  That 's  why  I  hesitate  to  say  anything  against 
Henslow's  new  departure.  We  're  off  the  track  now. 
I  want  to  hear  all  that  Henslow  has  to  say.  We  must 
not  neglect  a  single  chance  whilst  that  terrible  cry  is 
ever  in  our  ears." 

They  parted  at  the  tram  terminus,  Mr.  Bullsom 


A   QUESTION   FOR  THE   COUNTRY      31 

taking  a  car  for  his  suburban  paradise.  As  usual,  he 
was  the  centre  of  a  little  group  of  acquaintances. 

"  And  how  goes  the  election,  Bullsom?  "  some  one 
asked  him. 

Mr.  Bullsom  was  in  no  hurry  to  answer  the  ques- 
tion. He  glanced  round  the  car,  collecting  the  atten- 
tion of  those  who  might  be  supposed  interested. 

"I  will  answer  that  question  better,"  he  said,  "after 
the  mass  meeting  on  Saturday  night.  I  think  that 
Henslow's  success  or  failure  will  depend  on  that." 

"Got  something  up  your  sleeve,  eh?"  his  first 
questioner  remarked. 

"  Maybe,"  Mr.  Bullsom  answered.  "  Maybe  not. 
But  apart  from  the  immediate  matter  of  this  elec- 
tion, I  can  tell  you  one  thing,  gentlemen,  which  may 
interest  you." 

He  paused.  One  thumb  stole  towards  the  armhole 
of  his  waistcoat.  He  liked  to  see  these  nightly  com- 
panions of  his  hang  upon  his  words.  It  was  a  proper 
and  gratifying  tribute  to  his  success  as  a  man  of 
affairs. 

"  I  have  just  left,"  he  said,  "  our  future  Member." 

The  significance  of  his  speech  was  not  immediately 
apparent. 

"  Henslow !  Oh,  yes.  Committee  meeting  this 
afternoon,  wasn't  it?"  some  one  remarked. 

"  I  do  not  mean  Henslow,"  Mr.  Bullsom  replied. 
"  I  mean  Kingston  Brooks." 

The  desired  sensation  was  apparent. 

"Why,  he's  your  new  agent,  isn't  he?" 

"  Young  fellow  who  plays  cricket  rather  well." 

"  Great  golfer,  they  say !  " 

"  Makes  a  good  speech,  some  one  was  saying." 

"  Gives  free  lectures  at  the  Secular  Hall." 


32  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  Rather  a  smart  young  solicitor,  they  say ! " 

Mr.  Bullsom  looked  around  him. 

"  He  is  all  these  things,  and  he  does  all  these 
things.  He  is  one  of  these  youngsters  who  has  the 
knack  of  doing  everything  well.  Mark  my  words, 
all  of  you.  I  gave  him  his  first  case  of  any  impor- 
tance, and  I  got  him  this  job  as  agent  for  Henslow. 
He  's  bound  to  rise.  He  's  ambitious,  and  he 's  got 
the  brains.  He  '11  be  M.P.  for  this  borough  before 
we  know  where  we  are." 

Half-a-dozen  men  of  more  or  less  importance  made 
a  mental  note  to  nod  to  Kingston  Brooks  next  time 
they  saw  him,  and  Mr.  Bullsom  trudged  up  his  avenue 
with  fresh  schemes  maturing  in  his  mind.  In  the 
domestic  circle  he  further  unburdened  himself. 

"  Mrs.  Bullsom,"  he  said,  "  I  am  thinking  of 
giving  a  dinner-party.  How  many  people  do  we 
know  better  than  ourselves  ?  " 

Mrs.  Bullsom  was  aghast,  and  the  young  ladies, 
Selina  and  Louise,  who  were  in  the  room,  were 
indignant. 

"  Really,  papa,"  Selina  exclaimed,  "  what  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  What  I  say,"  he  answered,  gruffly.  "  We  're 
plain  people,  your  mother  and  I,  at  any  rate,  and 
when  you  come  to  reckon  things  up,  I  suppose  you  '11 
admit  that  we  're  not  much  in  the  social  way.  There 's 
plenty  of  people  living  round  us  in  a  sight  smaller 
houses  who  don't  know  us,  and  would  n't  if  they 
could  —  and  I  'm  not  so  sure  that  it 's  altogether  the 
fault  of  your  father  and  mother  either,  Selina,"  he 
added,  breaking  ruthlessly  in  upon  a  sotto-voce  re- 
mark of  that  young  lady's. 


A   QUESTION   FOR   THE   COUNTRY      33 

"  Well,  I  never ! "  Selina  exclaimed,  tossing  her 
head. 

"  Come,  come,  I  don't  want  no  sauce  from  you 
girls,"  he  added,  drifting  towards  the  fireplace,  and 
adopting  a  more  assured  tone  as  he  reached  his 
favourite  position.  "  I  've  reasons  for  wishing  to 
have  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks  here,  and  I  'd  like  him  to 
meet  gentlefolk.  Now,  there's  the  Vicar  and  his 
wife.  Do  you  suppose  they'd  come?" 

"  Well,  I  should  like  to  know  why  not,"  Mrs. 
Bullsom  remarked,  laying  down  her  knitting,  "  when 
it 's  only  three  weeks  ago  you  sent  him  ten  guineas 
for  the  curates'  fund.  Come  indeed !  They'd  better." 

"  Then  there 's  Dr.  Seventon,"  Mr.  Bullsom  con- 
tinued, "  and  his  wife.  Better  drop  him  a  line  and 
tell  him  to  look  in  and  see  me  at  the  office.  I  can 
invent  something  the  matter  with  me,  and  I  'd  best 
drop  him  a  hint.  They  say  Mrs.  Seventon  is  exclu- 
sive. But  I  '11  just  let  him  know  she  's  got  to  come. 
Now,  who  else,  girls  ?  " 

"  The  Huntingdons  might  come  —  if  they  knew 
that  it  was  this  sort  of  an  affair,"  Selina  remarked^ 
thoughtfully. 

"  And  Mr.  Seaton,"  Louise  added.  "  I  'm  sure 
he  's  most  gentlemanly." 

"  I  don't  want  gentlemanly  people  this  time,"  Mr. 
Bullsom  declared,  "  I  want  gentle-people.  That 's 
all  there  is  about  it.  I  let  you  ask  who  you  like  to 
the  house,  and  give  you  what  you  want  for  subscrip- 
tions and  clothes  and  such-like.  You  've  had  a  free 
'and.  Now  let 's  see  something  for  it.  Half-a-dozen 
couples  '11  be  enough  if  you  can't  get  more,  but  I 
won't  have  the  Nortons,  or  the  Marvises,  or  any  of 

3 


34  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

that  podgy  set.  You  understand  that  ?  And,  first  of 
all,  you,  Selina,  had  better  write  to  Mr.  Brooks  and 
ask  him  to  dine  with  us  in  a  friendly  way  one  night 
the  week  after  next,  when  the  election  is  over  and 
done  with." 

"In  a  friendly  way,  pa?"  Selina  repeated,  doubt- 
fully. "  But  we  can't  ask  these  other  people  whom 
we  know  so  slightly  like  that  —  and,  besides,  Mr. 
Brooks  might  not  dress  if  we  put  it  like  that." 

"  A  nice  lot  you  know  about  gentle-people  and 
their  ways,"  Mr.  Bullsom  remarked,  with  scorn.  "  A 
young  fellow  like  Brooks  would  tog  himself  out  for 
dinner  all  right  even  if  we  were  alone,  as  long  as 
there  were  ladies  there.  And  as  for  the  dinner,  you 
don't  suppose  I  'm  such  a  mug  as  to  leave  that  to 
Ann.  I  shall  go  to  the  Queen's  Hotel,  and  have  'em 
send  a  cook  and  waiters,  and  run  the  whole  show. 
Don't  know  that  I  shan't  send  to  London.  You  get 
the  people!  I'll  feed  'em!" 

"  Do  as  your  father  says,  Selina,"  Mrs.  Bullsom 
said,  mildly.  "  I  'm  sure  he  's  very  considerate." 

"  Where  's  Mary  ?  "  Mr.  Bullsom  inquired.  "  This 
is  a  bit  in  her  line." 

Selina  tossed  her  head. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  why  you  should  say  that, 
papa,"  she  declared.  "  Mary  knows  nothing  about 
society,  and  she  has  no  friends  who  would  be  the  least 
use  to  us." 

"  Where  is  she,  anyway?  "  Mr.  Bulsom  demanded. 

No  one  knew.  As  a  matter  of  fact  she  was  having 
tea  with  Kingston  Brooks. 


CHAPTER   V 

THE   MARQUIS   OF   ARRANMORE 

THEY  had  met  almost  on  the  steps  of  his  office, 
and  only  a  few  minutes  after  he  had  left  Mr. 
Bullsom.  Brooks  was  attracted  first  by  a  certain 
sense  of  familiarity  with  the  trim,  well-balanced 
figure,  and  immediately  afterwards  she  raised  her 
eyes  to  his  in  passing.  He  wheeled  sharply  round, 
and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  Miss  Scott,  is  n't  it?  Do  you  know  I  have  just 
left  your  uncle?  " 

She  smiled  a  little  absently.  She  looked  tired,  and 
her  boots  and  skirt  were  splashed  as  though  with 
much  walking. 

"  Indeed !  I  suppose  you  see  a  good  deal  of  him 
just  now  while  the  election  is  on?" 

"  I  must  make  myself  a  perfect  nuisance  to  him," 
Brooks  admitted.  "  You  see  the  work  is  all  new  to 
me,  and  he  has  been  through  it  many  times  before. 
Are  you  just  going  home?" 

She  nodded. 

"  I  have  been  out  since  two  o'clock,"  she  said. 

"  And  you  are  almost  wet  through,  and  quite  tired 
out,"  he  said.  "  Look  here.  Come  across  to  Mellor's 


36  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

and  have  some  tea  with  me,  and  I  will  put  you  in  a 
car  afterwards." 

She  hesitated  —  and  he  led  the  way  across  the 
street,  giving  her  no  opportunity  to  frame  a  refusal. 
The  little  tea-place  was  warm  and  cosy.  He  found 
a  comfortable  corner,  and  took  her  wet  umbrella  and 
cape  away. 

"  I  believe,"  he  said,  sitting  down  opposite  her, 
"  that  I  have  saved  your  life." 

"  Then  I  am  not  sure,"  she  answered,  "  that  I  feel 
grateful  to  you.  I  ought  to  have  warned  you  that  I 
am  not  in  the  least  likely  to  be  a  cheerful  companion. 
I  have  had  a  most  depressing  afternoon." 

"  You  have  been  to  your  tailor's,"  he  suggested, 
"  and  your  new  gown  is  a  failure  —  or  is  it  even 
worse  than  that  ?  " 

She  laughed  dubiously.  Then  the  tea  was  brought, 
and  for  a  moment  their  conversation  was  interrupted. 
He  thought  her  very  graceful  as  she  bent  forward  and 
busied  herself  attending  to  his  wants.  Her  affinity 
to  Selina  and  Louise  was  undistinguishable.  It  was 
true  that  she  was  pale,  but  it  was  the  pallor  of  refine- 
ment, the  student's  absence  of  colour  rather  than  the 
pallor  of  ill-health. 

"  Mr.  Brooks,"  she  said,  presently,  "  you  are  busy 
with  this  election,  and  you  are  brought  constantly 
into  touch  with  all  classes  of  people.  Can  you  tell 
me  why  it  is  that  it  is  so  hard  just  now  for  poor 
people  to  get  work?  Is  it  true,  what  they  tell  me, 
that  many  of  the  factories  in  Medchester  are  closed, 
and  many  of  those  that  are  open  are  only  working 
half  and  three-quarter  time?" 

"  I  am  afraid  that  it  is  quite  true,  Miss  Scott,"  he 


THE   MARQUIS    OF   ARRANMORE        37 

answered.  "  As  for  the  first  part  of  your  question, 
it  is  very  hard  to  answer.  There  seem  to  be  so  many 
causes  at  work  just  now." 

"  But  it  is  the  work  of  the  politician  surely  to 
analyze  these  causes." 

"  It  should  be,"  he  answered.  "  Tell  me  what  has 
brought  this  into  your  mind." 

"  Some  of  the  girls  in  our  class,"  she  said,  "  are 
out  of  work,  and  those  who  have  anything  to  do 
seem  to  be  working  themselves  almost  to  death  to 
keep  their  parents  or  somebody  dependent  upon  them. 
Two  of  them  I  am  anxious  about.  I  have  been  trying 
to  find  them  this  afternoon.  I  have  heard  things,  Mr. 
Brooks,  which  have  made  me  ashamed  —  sick  at  heart 
—  ashamed  to  go  home  and  think  how  we  live,  while 
they  die.  And  these  girls  —  they  have  known  so 
much  misery.  I  am  afraid  of  what  may  happen  to 
them." 

"  These  girls  are  mostly  boot  and  shoe  machinists, 
are  they  not  ?  " 

"  Yes.  But  even  Mr.  Stuart  says  that  he  cannot 
find  them  work." 

"  It  is  only  this  afternoon  that  we  have  all  been  dis- 
cussing this  matter,"  he  said,  gravely.  "  It  is  serious 
enough,  God  knows.  The  manufacturer  tells  us  that 
he  is  suffering  from  American  competition  —  here 
and  in  the  Colonies.  He  tells  us  that  the  workpeople 
themselves  are  largely  to  blame,  that  their  trades 
unions  restrict  them  to  such  an  extent  that  he  is 
hopelessly  handicapped  from  the  start.  But  there 
are  other  causes.  There  is  a  terrible  wave  of  depres- 
sion all  through  the  country.  The  working  classes 
have  no  money  to  spend.  Every  industry  is  flagging, 


38  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

and  every  industry  seems  threatened  with  competi- 
tion from  abroad.  Do  you  understand  the  principles 
of  Free  Trade  at  all  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.    I  wish  I  did." 

"  Some  day  we  must  have  a  talk  about  it.  Henslow 
has  made  a  very  daring  suggestion  to-day.  He  has 
given  us  all  plenty  to  think  about.  We  are  all  agreed 
upon  one  thing.  The  crisis  is  fast  approaching,  and 
it  must  be  faced.  These  people  have  the  right  to 
live,  and  they  have  the  right  to  demand  that  legisla- 
tion should  interfere  on  their  behalf." 

She  sighed. 

"  It  is  a  comfort  to  hear  you  talk  like  this,"  she 
said.  "  To  me  it  seems  almost  maddening  to  see  so 
much  suffering,  so  many  people  suffering,  not  only 
physically,  but  being  dragged  down  into  a  lower 
moral  state  by  sheer  force  of  circumstances  and  their 
surroundings,  and  all  the  time  we  educated  people 
go  on  our  way  and  live  our  lives,  as  though  nothing 
were  happening  —  as  though  we  had  no  responsi- 
bility whatever  for  the  holocaust  of  misery  at  our 
doors.  So  few  people  stop  to  think.  They  won't 
understand.  It  is  so  easy  to  put  things  behind 
one." 

"  Come,"  he  said,  cheerfully,  "  you  and  I,  at  least, 
are  not  amongst  those.  And  there  is  a  certain  duty 
which  we  owe  to  ourselves,  too,  as  well  as  to  others 
—  to  look  upon  the  brighter  side  of  things.  Let  us 
talk  about  something  less  depressing." 

"  You  shall  tell  me,"  she  suggested,  "  who  is  going 
to  win  the  election." 

"  Henslow !  "  he  answered,  promptly. 

"  Owing,  I  suppose " 


THE   MARQUIS    OF   ARRANMORE        39 

"  To  his  agent,  of  course.  You  may  laugh,  Miss 
Scott,  but  I  can  assure  you  that  my  duties  are  no 
sinecure.  I  never  knew  what  work  was  before." 

"  Too  much  work,"  she  said,  "  is  better  than  too 
little.  After  all,  more  people  die  of  the  latter  than 
the  former." 

"  Nature  meant  me,"  he  said,  "  for  a  lazy  man. 
I  have  all  the  qualifications  for  a  first-class  idler. 
And  circumstances  and  the  misfortune  of  my  opinions 
are  going  to  keep  me  going  at  express  speed  all  my 
life.  I  can  see  it  coming.  Sometimes  it  makes  me 
shudder." 

"  You  are  too  young,"  she  remarked,  "  to  shrink 
from  work.  I  have  no  sympathy  to  offer  you." 

"  I  begin  to  fear,  Miss  Scott,"  he  said,  "  that  you 
are  not  what  is  called  sympathetic." 

She  smiled  —  and  the  smile  broke  into  a  laugh,  as 
though  some  transient  idea  rather  than  his  words  had 
pleased  her. 

"  You  should  apply  to  my  cousin  Selina  for  that," 
she  said.  "  Every  one  calls  her  most  delightfully 
sympathetic." 

"  Sympathy,"  he  remarked,  "is  either  a  heaven-sent 
joy  —  or  a  bore.  It  depends  upon  the  individual." 

"  That  is  either  enigmatical  or  rude,"  she  answered. 
"  But,  after  all,  you  don't  know  Selina." 

"  Why  not?  "  he  asked.  "  I  have  talked  with  her 
as  long  as  with  you  —  and  I  feel  that  I  know  you 
quite  well." 

"  I  can't  be  responsible  for  your  feelings,"  she  said, 
a  little  brusquely,  "  but  I  'm  quite  sure  that  I  don't 
know  you  well  enough  to  be  sitting  here  at  tea  with 
you  even." 


40  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  I  won't  admit  that,"  he  answered,  "  but  it  was 
very  nice  of  you  to  come." 

"  The  fact  of  it  was,"  she  admitted,  "  my  headache 
and  appetite  were  stronger  than  my  sense  of  the  con- 
ventions. Now  that  the  former  are  dissipated  the 
latter  are  beginning  to  assert  themselves.  And  so — " 

She  began  to  draw  on  her  gloves.  Just  then  a  car- 
riage with  postilions  and  ladies  with  luggage  came 
clattering  up  the  street.  She  watched  it  with  dark- 
ening face. 

"  That  is  the  sort  of  man  I  detest,"  she  said,  mo- 
tioning her  head  towards  the  window.  "  You  know 
whose  carriage  it  is,  don't  you  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  I  did  not  know  that  any  one  round  here 
drove  with  postilions." 

"  It  is  the  Marquis  of  Arranmore.  He  has  a  place 
at  Enton,  I  believe,  but  he  is  only  here  for  a  few 
months  in  the  year." 

Brooks  started  and  leaned  eagerly  forward. 

"  Why  do  you  hate  him  ?  "  he  asked.  "  What  has 
he  done?" 

"  Did  n't  you  hear  how  he  treated  the  Mayor 
when  he  went  out  for  a  subscription  to  the  Unem- 
ployed Fund  ?  " 

Brooks  shook  his  head. 

"  No !    I  have  heard  nothing." 

"  Poor  old  Mr.  Wensome  went  out  all  that  way 
purposely  to  see  him.  He  was  kept  waiting  an  hour, 
and  then  when  he  explained  his  errand  the  Marquis 
laughed  at  him.  '  My  dear  fellow/  he  said,  '  the 
poor  people  of  Medchester  do  not  interest  me  in  the 
least.  I  do  not  go  to  the  people  who  are  better  off 


THE   MARQUIS    OF   ARRANMORE        41 

than  I  am  and  ask  them  to  help  support  me,  nor  do 
I  see  the  least  reason  why  those  who  are  worse  off 
than  I  am  should  expect  me  to  support  them.'  Mr. 
Wensome  tried  to  appeal  to  his  humanity,  and  the 
brute  only  continued  to  laugh  in  a  cynical  way.  He 
declared  that  poor  people  did  not  interest  him.  His 
tenants  he  was  prepared  to  look  after  —  outside  his 
own  property  he  did  n't  care  a  snap  of  the  fingers 
whether  people  lived  or  died.  Mr.  Wensome  said  it 
was  perfectly  awful  to  hear  him  talk,  and  he  came 
away  without  a  penny.  Yet  his  property  in  this 
country  alone  is  worth  fifty  thousand  a  year." 

"  It  is  very  surprising,"  Brooks  said,  thoughtfully. 
"  The  more  surprising  because  I  know  of  a  kind 
action  which  he  once  did." 

"Sh!  they're  coming  here!"  she  exclaimed. 
"That  is  the  Marquis." 

The  omnibus  had  pulled  up  outside.  A  tall  foot- 
man threw  open  the  door,  and  held  an  umbrella  over 
the  two  ladies  who  had  descended.  The  Marquis 
and  two  other  men  followed.  They  trooped  into  the 
little  place,  bringing  with  them  a  strange  flavour  of 
another  world.  The  women  wore  wonderful  furs, 
and  one  who  had  ermine  around  her  neck  wore  a 
great  bunch  of  Neapolitan  violets,  whose  perfume 
seemed  to  fill  the  room. 

"  This  is  a  delightful  idea,"  the  taller  one  said, 
turning  towards  her  host.  "  An  eight-mile  drive 
before  tea  sounded  appalling.  Where  shall  we  sit, 
and  may  we  have  muffins?" 

"  There  is  nothing  about  your  youth,  Lady  Sybil, 
which  I  envy  more  than  your  digestion,"  he  an- 
swered, motioning  them  towards  a  table.  "  To  be 


'42  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

able  to  eat  muffins  with  plenty  of  butter  would  be 
unalloyed  bliss.  Nevertheless,  you  shall  have  them. 
No  one  has  ever  called  me  selfish.  Let  us  have  tea, 
and  toast,  and  bread-and-butter  and  cakes,  and  a 
great  many  muffins,  please,  young  lady,"  he  ordered. 
"  And  will  you  send  out  some  tea  to  my  servants, 
please?  It  will  save  them  from  trying  to  obtain 
drinks  from  the  hotel  next  door,  and  ensure  us  a 
safe  drive  home." 

"  And  don't  forget  to  send  out  for  that  pack  of 
cards,  Arranmore,"  the  elder  lady  said.  "  We  are 
going  to  play  bridge  driving  home  with  that  won- 
derful little  electric  lamp  of  yours." 

"  I  will  not  forget,"  he  promised.  "  We  are  to  be 
partners,  you  know." 

He  was  on  the  point  of  sitting  down  when  he  saw 
Brooks  at  the  next  table.  He  held  out  his  hand. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Brooks  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  that  you  are  going  to  get  your  man  in." 

"  Thank  you,"  Brooks  answered,  rising  and  wait- 
ing for  his  companion,  who  was  buttoning  her  gloves. 
"  I  was  afraid  that  your  sympathies  would  be  on  the 
other  side." 

"  Dear  me,  no,"  the  Marquis  answered.  "  My 
enemies  would  tell  you  that  I  have  neither  sym- 
pathy nor  politics,  but  I  assure  you  that  at  heart  I 
am  a  most  devout  Radical.  I  have  a  vote,  too,  and 
you  may  count  upon  me." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  Brooks  answered. 
"  Shall  I  put  you  down  on  the  list  'to  be  fetched'?" 

The  Marquis  laughed. 

"  I  '11  come  without,"  he  declared.  "  I  promise. 
Just  remind  me  of  the  day." 


THE   MARQUIS    OF   ARRANMORE        43 

He  glanced  towards  Mary  Scott,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment seemed  about  to  include  her  in  some  forth- 
coming remark.  But  whatever  it  might  have  been 
it  was  never  made.  She  kept  her  eyes  averted,  and 
though  her  self-possession  was  absolutely  unruffled 
she  hastened  her  departure. 

"  I  am  not  hurrying  you,  Mr.  Brooks  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  he  assured  her. 

He  raised  his  hat  to  the  Marquis  and  his  party, 
and  the  former  nodded  good-humouredly.  There 
was  silence  until  the  two  were  in  the  street.  Then 
one  of  the  men  who  had  been  looking  after  them 
dropped  his  eye-glass. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  he  said  to  his  vis-a-vis. 
"  There  's  some  chance  for  us  in  Medchester  after 
all.  I  don't  believe  Arranmore  is  popular  amongst 
the  ladies  of  his  own  neighbourhood." 

The  Marquis  laughed  softly. 

"  She  has  a  nice  face,"  he  remarked,  "  and  I  should 
imagine  excellent  perceptions.  Curiously  enough,  too, 
she  reminded  me  of  some  one  who  has  every  reason 
to  hate  me.  But  to  the  best  of  my  belief  I  never  saw 
her  before  in  my  life.  Lady  Caroom,  that  weird- 
looking  object  in  front  of  you  is  a  teapot — and  those 
are  teacups.  May  I  suggest  a  use  for  them  ?  " 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE   MAN   WHO   WENT   TO   HELL 

THE  Hon.  Sydney  Chester  Molyneux  stood 
with  his  cue  in  one  hand,  and  an  open  tele- 
gram in  the  other,  in  the  billiard-room  at  Enton. 
He  was  visibly  annoyed. 

"  Beastly  hard  luck,"  he  declared.  "  Parliament 
is  a  shocking  grind  anyway.  It  is  n't  that  one  ever 
does  anything,  you  know,  but  One  wastes  such  a  lot 
of  time  when  one  might  have  been  doing  something 
worth  while." 

"  Do  repeat  that,  Sydney,"  Lady  Caroom  begged, 
laying  down  her  novel  for  a  moment.  "  It  really 
sounds  as  though  it  ought  to  mean  something." 

"  I  could  n't !  "  he  admitted.  "  I  wish  to  cultivate 
a  reputation  for  originality,  and  my  first  object  is  to 
forget  everything  I  have  said  directly  I  have  said  it, 
in  case  I  should  repeat  myself." 

"  A  short  memory,"  Arranmore  remarked,  "  is  a 
politician's  most  valuable  possession,  isn't  it?" 

"  No  memory  at  all  is  better,"  Molyneux  answered. 

"  And  your  telegram  ?  "  Lady  Caroom  asked. 

"  Is  from  my  indefatigable  uncle,"  Molyneux 
groaned.  "  He  insists  upon  it  that  I  interest  my- 
self in  the  election  here,  which  means  that  I  must 
go  in  to-morrow  and  call  upon  Rochester." 

The  younger  girl  looked  up  from  her  chair,  and 
laughed  softly. 


THE   MAN    WHO   WENT   TO    HELL      45 

"  You  will  have  to  speak  for  him,"  she  said. 
"How  interesting!  We  will  all  come  in  and  hear 
you." 

Molyneux  missed  an  easy  cannon,  and  laid  down 
his  cue  with  an  aggrieved  air. 

"It  is  all  very  well  for  you,"  he  remarked,  dis- 
mally, "  but  it  is  a  horrible  grind  for  me.  I  have 
just  succeeded  in  forgetting  all  that  we  did  last  ses- 
sion, and  our  programme  for  next.  Now  I  've  got 
to  wade  through  it  all.  I  wonder  why  on  earth 
Providence  selected  for  me  an  uncle  who  thinks  it 
worth  while  to  be  a  Cabinet  Minister?" 

Sybil  Caroom  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  I  wonder  why  on  earth,"  she  remarked,  "  any 
constituency  thinks  it  worth  while  to  be  represented 
by  such  a  politician  as  you.  How  did  you  get  in, 
Sydney?" 

"  Don't  know,"  he  answered.  "  I  was  on  the  right 
side,  and  I  talked  the  usual  rot." 

"  For  myself,"  she  said,  "  I  like  a  politician  who 
is  in  earnest.  They  are  more  amusing,  and  more 
impressive  in  every  way.  Who  was  the  young  man 
you  spoke  to  in  that  little  place  where  we  had  tea  ?  " 
she  asked  her  host. 

"  His  name  is  Kingston  Brooks,"  Arranmore  an- 
swered. "  He  is  the  agent  for  Henslow,  the  Radical 
candidate." 

"  Well,  I  liked  him,"  she  said.  "  If  I  had  a  vote 
I  would  let  him  convert  me  to  Radicalism.  I  am 
sure  that  he  could  do  it." 

"  He  shall  try — if  you  like,"  Arranmore  remarked. 
"  I  am  going  to  ask  him  to  shoot  one  day." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,"  the  girl  answered. 


46  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  I  think  he  would  be  a  wholesome  change.  You  are 
all  too  flippant  here." 

The  door  opened.  Mr.  Hennibul,  K.C.,  inserted 
his  head  and  shoulders. 

"  I  have  been  to  look  at  Arranmore's  golf-links," 
he  remarked.  "  They  are  quite  decent.  Will  some 
one  come  and  play  a  round  ?  " 

"  I  will  come/'  Sybil  declared,  putting  down  her 
book. 

"  And  I,"  Molyneux  joined  in.  "  Hennibul  can 
play  our  best  ball." 

Lady  Caroom  and  her  host  were  left  alone.  He 
came  over  to  her  side. 

"  What  can  I  do  to  entertain  your  ladyship?  "  he 
asked,  lightly.  "  Will  you  play  billiards,  walk  or 
drive?  There  is  an  hour  before  lunch  which  must 
be  charmed  away." 

"  I  am  not  energetic,"  she  declared.  "  I  ought  to 
walk  for  the  sake  of  my  figure.  I  'm  getting  shock- 
ingly stout.  Marie  made  me  promise  to  walk  a  mile 
to-day.  But  I  'm  feeling  deliciously  lazy." 

"  Embonpoint  is  the  fashion,"  he  remarked,  "  and 
you  are  inches  short  of  even  that  yet.  Come  and  sit 
in  the  study  while  I  write  some  letters." 

She  held  out  her  hands. 

"  Pull  me  up,  then!  I  am  much  too  comfortable 
to  move  unaided." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  lightly  enough,  and  for  a 
moment  he  kept  her  hands,  which  rested  willingly 
enough  in  his.  They  looked  at  one  another  in  silence. 
Then  she  laughed. 

"  My  dear  Arranmore,"  she  protested,  "  I  am  not 
made  up  half  carefully  enough  to  stand  such  a  criti- 


47 

cal  survey  by  daylight.  Your  north  windows  are 
too  terrible." 

"  Not  to  you,  dear  lady,"  he  answered,  smiling. 
"  I  was  wondering  whether  it  was  possible  that  you 
could  be  forty-one." 

"  You  brute,"  she  exclaimed,  with  uplifted  eye- 
brows. "  How  dare  you  ?  Forty  if  you  like  —  for 
as  long  as  you  like.  Forty  is  the  fashionable  age, 
but  one  year  over  that  is  fatal.  Don't  you  know  that 
now-a-days  a  woman  goes  straight  from  forty  to 
sixty?  It  is  such  a  delicious  long  rest.  And  be- 
sides, it  gives  a  woman  an  object  in  life  which  she 
has  probably  been  groping  about  for  all  her  days. 
One  is  never  bored  after  forty." 

"And  the  object?" 

"  To  keep  young,  of  course.  There  's  scope  for 
any  amount  of  ingenuity.  Since  that  dear  man  in 
Paris  has  hit  upon  the  real  secret  of  enamelling,  we 
are  thinking  of  extending  the  limit  to  sixty-five. 
Lily  Cestigan  is  seventy-one,  you  know,  and  she  told 
me  only  last  week  that  Mat  Harlowe  —  you  know 
Harlowe,  he  's  rather  a  nice  boy,  in  the  Guards  — 
had  asked  her  to  run  away  with  him.  She  's  known 
him  three  months,  and  he  's  seen  her  at  least  three 
times  by  daylight.  She  's  delighted  about  it." 

"  And  is  she  going?  "  Arranmore  asked. 

"  Well,  I  'm  not  sure  that  she  'd  care  to  risk  that," 
Lady  Caroom  answered,  thoughtfully.  "  She  told 
him  she  'd  think  about  it,  and,  meanwhile,  he  's  just 
as  devoted  as  ever." 

They  crossed  the  great  stone  hall  together  —  the 
hall  which,  with  its  wonderful  pillars  and  carved 
dome,  made  Enton  the  show-house  of  the  county. 


48  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Arranmore's  study  was  a  small  octagonal  room  lead- 
ing out  from  the  library.  A  fire  of  cedar  logs  was 
burning  in  an  open  grate,  and  he  wheeled  up  an 
easy-chair  for  her  close  to  his  writing-table. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  remarked,  thoughtfully,  "  what 
you  think  of  Syd  Molyneux?" 

"  Is  there  anything  —  to  be  thought  about  him?" 
he  answered,  lighting  a  cigarette. 

"He's  rather  that  way,  isn't  he?"  she  assented. 
"  I  mean  for  Sybil,  you  know." 

"  I  should  let  Sybil  decide,"  he  answered. 

"  She  probably  will,"  Lady  Caroom  said.  "  Still, 
she's  horribly  bored  at  having  to  be  dragged  about 
to  places,  you  know,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  just  be- 
cause she  is  n't  married,  and  she  likes  Syd  all  right. 
He's  no  fool!" 

"  I  suppose  not,"  Arranmore  answered.  "  He  's 
of  a  type,  you  know,  which  has  sprung  up  during 
my  —  absence  from  civilization.  You  want  to  grow 
up  with  it  to  appreciate  it  properly.  I  don't  think 
he's  good  enough  for  Sybil." 

Lady  Caroom  sighed. 

"  Sybil 's  a  dear  girl,"  she  said,  "  although  she  's 
a  terrible  nuisance  to  me.  I  should  n't  be  at  all 
surprised  either  if  she  developed  views.  I  wish 
you  were  a  marrying  man,  Arranmore.  I  used  to 
think  of  you  myself  once,  but  you  would  be  too 
old  for  me  now.  You  're  exactly  the  right  age  for 
Sybil." 

Arranmore  smiled.  He  had  quite  forgotten  his 
letters.  Lady  Caroom  always  amused  him  so  well. 

"  She  is  very  like  what  you  were  at  her  age,"  he 
remarked.  "  .What  a  pity  it  was  that  I  was  such  a 


THE   MAN   WHO   WENT   TO   HELL      49 

poverty-stricken  beggar  in  those  days.  I  am  sure 
that  I  should  have  married  you." 

"  Now  I  am  beginning  to  like  you,"  she  declared, 
settling  down  more  comfortably  in  her  chair.  "  If 
you  can  keep  up  like  that  we  shall  be  getting  posi- 
tively sentimental  presently,  and  if  there  's  anything 
I  adore  in  this  world  —  especially  before  luncheon 
—  it  is  sentiment.  Do  you  remember  we  used  to 
waltz  together,  Arranmore?" 

"  You  gave  me  a  glove  one  night,"  he  said.  "  I 
have  it  still." 

"  And  you  pressed  my  hand  —  and  —  it  was  in 
the  Setons'  conservatory  —  how  bold  you  were." 

"  And  the  next  day,"  he  declared,  in  an  aggrieved 
tone,  "  I  heard  that  you  were  engaged  to  Caroom. 
You  treated  me  shamefully." 

"  These  reminiscences,"  she  declared,  "  are  really 
sweet,  but  you  are  most  ungrateful.  I  was  really 
almost  too  kind  to  you.  They  were  all  fearfully 
anxious  to  get  me  married,  because  Dumesnil  always 
used  to  say  that  my  complexion  would  give  out  in  a 
year  or  two,  and  I  wasted  no  end  of  time  upon  you, 
who  were  perfectly  hopeless  as  a  husband.  After  all, 
though,  I  believe  it  paid.  It  used  to  annoy  Caroom 
so  much,  and  I  believe  he  proposed  to  me  long  be- 
fore he  meant  to  so  as  to  get  rid  of  you." 

"  I,"  Arranmore  remarked,  "  was  the  victim." 

She  sat  up  with  eyes  suddenly  bright. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  she  declared,  "  I  have  an  idea. 
It  is  the  most  charming  and  flattering  thing,  and  it 
never  occurred  to  me  before.  After  all,  it  was  not 
eccentricity  which  caused  you  to  throw  up  your  work 
at  the  Bar  —  and  disappear.  It  was  your  hopeless 

4 


50  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

devotion  to  me.  Don't  disappoint  me  now  by  deny- 
ing it.  Please  don't!  It  was  the  announcement  of 
my  engagement,  wasn't  it?" 

"  And  it  has  taken  you  all  these  years  to  find  it 
out?" 

"  I  was  shockingly  obtuse,"  she  murmured.  "  The 
thing  came  to  me  just  now  as  a  revelation.  Poor, 
dear  man,  how  you  must  have  suffered.  This  puts 
us  on  a  different  footing  altogether,  doesn't  it?" 

"Altogether,"  he  admitted. 

"  And,"  she  continued,  eyeing  him  now  with  a 
sudden  nervousness,  "  emboldens  me  to  ask  you  a 
question  which  I  have  been  dying  to  ask  you  for 
the  last  few  years.  I  wonder  whether  you  will  an- 
swer it." 

"  I  wonder !  "  he  repeated. 

A  change  in  him,  too,  was  noticeable.  That  won- 
derful impassivity  of  feature  which  never  even  in  his 
lighter  moments  passed  altogether  away,  seemed  to 
deepen  every  line  in  his  hard,  clear-cut  face.  His 
mouth  was  close  drawn,  his  eyes  were  suddenly  colder 
and  expressionless.  There  was  about  him  at  such 
times  as  these  an  almost  repellent  hardness.  His 
emotions,  and  the  man  himself,  seemed  frozen.  Lady 
Caroom  had  seen  him  look  like  it  once  before,  and 
she  sighed.  Nevertheless,  she  persevered. 

"  For  nearly  twenty  years,"  she  said,  "  you  disap- 
peared. You  were  reported  at  different  times  to  be 
in  every  quarter  of  the  earth,  from  Zambesia  to  Pekin. 
But  no  one  knew,  and,  of  course,  in  a  season  or  two 
you  were  forgotten.  I  always  wondered,  I  am  won- 
dering now,  where  were  you  ?  What  did  you  do  with 
yourself  ?  " 


THE   MAN   WHO   WENT   TO   HELL      51 

"  I  went  down  into  Hell/'  he  answered.  "  Can't 
you  see  the  marks  of  it  in  my  face  ?  For  many  years 
I  lived  in  Hell  —  for  many  years." 

"  You  puzzle  me,"  she  said,  in  a  low  tone.  "  You 
had  no  taste  for  dissipation.  You  look  as  though 
life  had  scorched  you  up  at  some  time  or  other.  But 
how?  where?  You  were  found  in  Canada,  I  know, 
when  your  brother  died.  But  you  had  only  been 
there  for  a  few  years.  Before  then  ?  " 

"Ay!     Before  then?" 

There  was  a  short  silence.  Then  Arranmore,  who 
had  been  gazing  steadily  into  the  fire,  looked  up.  She 
fancied  that  his  eyes  were  softer. 

"  Dear  friend,"  he  said,  "  of  those  days  I  have 
nothing  to  tell — even  you.  But  there  are  more  awful 
things  even  than  moral  degeneration.  You  do  me 
justice  when  you  impute  that  I  never  ate  from  the 
trough.  But  what  I  did,  and  where  I  lived,  I  do  not 
think  that  I  shall  ever  willingly  tell  any  one." 

A  piece  of  burning  wood  fell  upon  the  hearthstone. 
He  stooped  and  picked  it  up,  placed  it  carefully  in  its 
place,  and  busied  himself  for  a  moment  or  two  with 
the  little  brass  poker.  Then  he  straightened  himself. 

"  Catherine,"  he  said,  "  I  think  if  I  were  you  that 
I  would  not  marry  Sybil  to  Molyneux.  It  struck 
me  to-day  that  his  eyeglass-chain  was  of  last  year's 
pattern,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  he  is  sound  on  the 
subject  of  collars.  You  know  how  important  these 
things  are  to  a  young  man  who  has  to  make  his  own 
way  in  the  world.  Perhaps,  I  am  not  sure,  but  I 
think  it  is  very  likely  I  might  be  able  to  find  a  hus- 
band for  her." 

"  You  dear  man,"  Lady  Caroom  murmured.     "  I 


52  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

should  rely  upon  your  taste  and  judgment  so 
thoroughly." 

There  was  a  discreet  knock  at  the  door.  A  ser- 
vant entered  with  a  card.  Arranmore  took  it  up, 
and  retained  it  in  his  fingers. 

"  Tell  Mr.  Brooks,"  he  said,  "  that  I  will  be  with 
him  in  a  moment.  If  he  has  ridden  over,  ask  him 
to  take  some  refreshment." 

"  You  have  a  visitor,"  Lady  Caroom  said,  rising. 
"  If  you  will  excuse  me  I  will  go  and  lie  down  until 
luncheon-time,  and  let  my  maid  touch  me  up.  These 
sentimental  conversations  are  so  harrowing.  I  feel 
a  perfect  wreck." 

She  glided  from  the  room,  graceful,  brisk  and 
charming,  the  most  wonderful  woman  in  England, 
as  the  Society  papers  were  never  tired  of  calling  her. 
Arranmore  glanced  once  more  at  the  card  between 
his  fingers. 

"Mr.  Kingston  Brooks." 

He  stood  for  a  few  seconds,  motionless.  Then  he 
rang  the  bell. 

"  Show  Mr.  Brooks  in  here,"  he  directed. 


CHAPTER   VII 

A   THOUSAND   POUNDS 

BROOKS  had  ridden  a  bicycle  from  Medchester, 
and  his  trousers  and  boots  were  splashed  with 
mud.  His  presence  at  Enton  was  due  to  an  impulse, 
the  inspiration  of  which  he  had  already  begun  seri- 
ously to  doubt.  Arranmore's  kindly  reception  of 
him  was  more  than  ordinarily  welcome. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Brooks,"  he  said, 
holding  out  his  hand.  "  How  comes  it  that  you  are 
able  to  take  even  so  short  a  holiday  as  this?  I  pic- 
tured you  surrounded  by  canvassers  and  bill-posters 
and  journalists,  all  clamouring  for  your  ear." 

Brooks  laughed,  completely  at  his  ease  now,  thanks 
to  the  unspoken  cordiality  of  the  other  man.  He 
took  the  easy-chair  which  the  servant  had  noiselessly 
wheeled  up  to  him. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  you  exaggerate  my  importance, 
Lord  Arranmore,"  he  said.  "  I  was  very  busy  early 
this  morning,  and  I  shall  be  again  after  four.  But 
I  am  allowed  a  little  respite  now  and  then." 

"  You  spend  it  very  sensibly  out  of  doors,"  Arran- 
more remarked.  "  How  did  you  get  here?  " 

"  I  cycled,"  Brooks  answered.  "It  was  very  pleas- 
ant, but  muddy." 

"  What  will  you  have  ?  "  Lord  Arranmore  asked. 
"Some  wine  and  biscuits,  or  something  of  that  sort?" 


54  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

His  hand  was  upon  the  bell,  but  Brooks  stopped 
him. 

"  Nothing  at  all,  thank  you,  just  now." 

"  Luncheon  will  be  served  in  half-an-hour,"  the 
Marquis  said.  "You  will  prefer  to  wait  until  then?" 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,"  Brooks  answered, 
"  but  I  must  be  getting  back  to  Medchester  as  soon 
as  possible.  Besides,"  he  added,  with  a  smile,  "  I 
am  afraid  when  I  have  spoken  of  the  object  of  my 
visit  you  may  feel  inclined  to  kick  me  out." 

"  I  hope  not,"  Arranmore  replied,  lightly.  "  I  was 
hoping  that  your  visit  had  no  object  at  all,  and  that 
you  had  been  good  enough  just  to  look  me  up." 

"  I  should  not  have  intruded  without  a  purpose," 
Brooks  said,  quietly,  "  but  you  will  be  almost  justi- 
fied in  treating  my  visit  as  an  impertinence  when  I 
have  disclosed  my  errand.  Lord  Arranmore,  I  am 
the  secretary  for  the  fund  which  is  being  raised  in 
Medchester  for  the  relief  of  the  Unemployed." 

Arranmore  nodded. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  said.  "  I  had  a  visit  a  few  days 
ago  from  a  worthy  Medchester  gentleman  connected 
with  it." 

"It  is  concerning  that  visit,  Lord  Arranmore,  that 
I  have  come  to  see  you,"  Brooks  continued,  quietly. 
"  I  only  heard  of  it  yesterday  afternoon,  but  this 
morning  it  seems  to  me  that  every  one  whom  I  have 
met  has  alluded  to  it." 

The  Marquis  was  lounging  against  the  broad  man- 
telpiece. Some  part  of  the  cordiality  of  his  manner 
had  vanished. 

"Well?" 

"  Lord  Arranmore,  I  wondered  whether  it  was  not 


A   THOUSAND   POUNDS  55 

possible  that  some  mistake  had  been  made,"  Brooks 
said.  "  I  wondered  whether  Mr.  Wensome  had  alto- 
gether understood  you  properly " 

"  I  did  my  best  to  be  explicit,"  the  Marquis  mur- 
mured. 

"  Or  whether  you  had  misunderstood  him,"  Brooks 
continued,  doggedly.  "  This  fund  has  become  abso- 
lutely necessary  unless  we  wish  to  see  the  people 
starve  in  the  streets.  There  are  between  six  and 
seven  thousand  operatives  and  artisans  in  Medches- 
ter  to-day  who  are  without  work  through  no  fault 
of  their  own.  It  is  our  duty  as  citizens  to  do  our 
best  for  them.  Nearly  every  one  in  Medchester  has 
contributed  according  to  their  means.  You  are  a 
large  property-owner  in  the  town.  Cannot  you  con- 
sider this  appeal  as  an  unenforced  rate?  It  comes 
to  that  in  the  long  run." 

The  Marquis  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  on  the  subject  of  charity 
Englishmen  generally  wholly  misapprehend  the  situ- 
ation. You  say  that  between  six  and  seven  thousand 
men  are  out  of  work  in  Medchester.  Very  well,  I 
affirm  that  there  must  be  a  cause  for  that.  If  you 
are  a  philanthropist  it  is  your  duty  to  at  once  inves- 
tigate the  economic  and  political  reasons  for  such  a 
state  of  things,  and  alter  them.  By  going  about  and 
collecting  money  for  these  people  you  commit  what 
is  little  short  of  a  crime.  You  must  know  the  de- 
moralizing effect  of  charity.  No  man  who  has  ever 
received  a  dole  is  ever  again  an  independent  person. 
Besides  that,  you  are  diverting  the  public  mind  from 
the  real  point  of  issue,  which  is  not  that  so  many 
thousand  people  are  hungry,  but  that  a  flaw  exists 


56  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

in  the  administration  of  the  laws  of  the  country  so 
grave  that  a  certain  number  of  thousands  of  people 
who  have  a  God-sent  right  to  productive  labour 
haven't  got  it.  Do  you  follow  me?" 

"  Perfectly,"  Brooks  answered.  "You  did  not  talk 
like  this  to  Mr.  Wensome." 

"  I  admit  it.  He  was  an  ignorant  man  in  whom 
I  felt  no  interest  whatever,  and  I  did  not  take  the 
trouble.  Besides,  I  will  frankly  admit  that  I  am  in 
no  sense  of  the  word  a  sentimentalist.  The  distresses 
of  other  people  do  not  interest  me  particularly.  I 
have  been  poor  myself,  and  I  never  asked  for,  nor 
was  offered,  any  sort  of  help.  Consequently  I  feel 
very  little  responsibility  concerning  these  unfortu- 
nate people,  whose  cause  you  have  espoused." 

"May  I  revert  to  your  first  argument?"  Brooks 
said.  "  If  you  saw  a  man  drowning  then,  instead  of 
trying  to  save  him  you  would  subscribe  towards  a 
fund  to  teach  people  to  swim?  " 

"  That  is  ingenious,"  Lord  Arranmore  replied, 
smiling  grimly,  "  but  it  does  n't  interest  me.  If  I 
saw  a  man  drowning  I  should  n't  think  of  interfering 
unless  the  loss  of  that  man  brought  inconvenience 
or  loss  to  myself.  If  it  did  I  should  endeavour 
to  save  him  —  not  unless.  As  for  the  fund  you 
speak  of,  I  should  not  think  of  subscribing  to  it. 
It  would  not  interest  me  to  know  that  other  people 
were  provided  with  a  safeguard  against  drowning. 
I  should  probably  spend  the  money  in  perfecting 
myself  in  the  art  of  swimming.  Don't  you  see  that 
no  man  who  has  ever  received  help  from  another  is 
exactly  in  the  same  position  again  ?  As  an  individual 
he  is  a  weaker  creature.  That  is  where  I  disagree 


A   THOUSAND   POUNDS  57 

with  nearly  every  existing  form  of  charity.  They 
are  wrong  in  principle.  They  are  a  debauchment." 

"  Your  views,  Lord  Arranmore,"  Brooks  said,  "are 
excellent  for  a  model  world.  For  practical  purposes 
I  think  they  are  a  little  pedantic.  You  are  quite  right 
in  your  idea  that  charity  is  a  great  danger.  I  can 
assure  you  that  we  are  trying  to  realize  that  in 
Medchester.  We  ask  for  money,  and  we  dispense 
it  unwillingly,  but  as  a  necessary  evil.  And  we  are 
trying  to  earnestly  see  where  our  social  system  is  at 
fault,  and  to  readjust  it.  But  meanwhile,  men  and 
women  and  children  even  are  starving.  We  must 
help  them." 

"  That  is  where  you  are  wholly  wrong,  and 
where  you  retard  all  progress,"  Arranmore  re- 
marked. "  Can't  you  see  that  you  are  continually 
plugging  up  dangerous  leaks  with  putty  instead  of 
lead?  You  muffle  the  cry  which  but  for  you  must 
ring  through  the  land,  and  make  itself  heard  to 
every  one.  Let  the  people  starve  who  are  without 
means.  Legislation  would  stir  itself  fast  enough 
then.  It  is  the  only  way.  Charity  to  individuals  is 
poison  to  the  multitude.  You  create  tliD  criminal 
classes  with  your  charities,  you  blindfold  states- 
men and  mislead  political  economists.  I  tell  you 
that  the  more  you  give  away  the  more  distress  you 
create." 

Brooks  rose  from  his  seat. 

"  Charity  is  older  than  nations  or  history,  Lord 
Arranmore,"  he  said,  "  and  I  am  foolish  enough  to 
think  that  the  world  is  a  better  place  for  it.  Your 
reasoning  is  very  excellent,  but  life  has  not  yet  be- 
come an  exact  science.  The  weaknesses  of  men  and 


58  A   PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

women  have  to  be  considered.  You  have  probably 
never  seen  a  starving  person." 

Lord  Arranmore  laughed,  and  Brooks  looked  across 
the  room  at  him  in  amazement.  The  Marquis  was 
always  pale,  but  his  pallor  just  then  was  as  unnat- 
ural as  the  laugh  itself. 

"  My  dear  young  man/'  he  said,  "  if  I  could  show 
you  what  I  have  seen  your  hair  would  turn  grey,  and 
;your  wits  go  wandering.  Do  you  think  that  I  know 
nothing  of  life  save  its  crust  ?  I  tell  you  that  I  have 
been  down  in  the  depths,  aye,  single-handed,  there 
in  the  devil's  own  cauldron,  where  creatures  in  the 
shape  of  men  and  women,  the  very  sight  of  whom 
would  turn  you  sick  with  horror,  creep  like  spawn 
through  life,  brainless  and  soulless,  foul  things  who 
would  murder  one  another  for  the  sake  of  a  crust, 
or Bah!  What  horrible  memories." 

He  broke  off  abruptly.  When  he  spoke  again  his 
tone  was  as  usual. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  I  must  n't  let  you  have  this 
journey  for  nothing.  After  all,  the  only  luxury  in 
having  principles  is  in  the  departing  from  them.  I 
will  give  you  a  cheque,  Mr.  Brooks,  only  I  beg  you 
to  think  over  what  I  have  said.  Abandon  this  dol- 
ing principle  as  soon  as  it  is  possible.  Give  your 
serious  attention  to  the  social  questions  and  imper- 
fect laws  which  are  at  the  back  of  all  this  distress." 

Brooks  felt  as  though  he  had  been  awakened  from 
a  nightmare.  He  never  forgot  that  single  moment 
of  revelation  on  the  part  of  the  man  who  sat  now 
smiling  and  debonair  before  his  writing-table. 

"  You  are  very  kind  indeed,  Lord  Arranmore,"  he 
said.  "  I  can  assure  you  that  the  money  will  be  most 


A   THOUSAND    POUNDS  59 

carefully  used,  and  amongst  my  party,  at  any  rate, 
we  do  really  appreciate  the  necessity  for  going  to  the 
root  of  the  matter." 

Arranmore's  pen  went  scratching  across  the  paper. 
He  tore  out  a  cheque,  and  placing  it  in  an  envelope, 
handed  it  to  Brooks. 

"  I  noticed,"  he  remarked,  thoughtfully,  "  that  a 
good  many  people  coming  out  of  the  factories  hissed 
my  carriage  in  Medchester  last  time  I  was  there.  I 
hope  they  will  not  consider  my  cheque  as  a  sign  of 
weakness.  But  after  all,"  he  added,  with  a  smile, 
"  what  does  it  matter  ?  Let  us  go  in  to  luncheon, 
Brooks." 

Brooks  glanced  down  at  his  mud-splashed  clothes 
and  boots. 

"  I  must  really  ask  you  to  excuse  me,"  he  began, 
but  Arranmore  only  rang  the  bell. 

"  My  valet  will  smarten  you  up,"  he  said.  "  Here, 
Fritz,  take  Mr.  Brooks  into  my  room  and  look  after 
him,  will  you.  I  shall  be  in  the  hall  when  you  come 
down." 

As  he  passed  from  the  dressing-room  a  few  minutes 
later,  Brooks  paused  for  a  moment  to  look  up  at  the 
wonderful  ceiling  above  the  hall.  Below,  Lord  Ar- 
ranmore was  idly  knocking  about  the  billiard  balls, 
and  all  around  him  was  the  murmur  of  pleasant 
conversation.  Brooks  drew  the  envelope  from  his 
pocket  and  glanced  at  the  cheque.  He  gave  a  little 
gasp  of  astonishment.  It  was  for  a  thousand  pounds. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

KINGSTON    BROOKS    MAKES    INQUIRIES 

AT  luncheon  Brooks  found  himself  between  Sybil 
Caroom  and  Mr.  Hennibul.  She  began  to  talk 
to  him  at  once. 

"  I  want  to  know  all  about  your  candidate,  Mr. 
Brooks,"  she  declared.  "  You  can't  imagine  how 
pleased  I  am  to  have  you  here.  I  have  had  the  feeling 
ever  since  I  came  of  being  shut  up  in  a  hostile  camp. 
I  am  a  Radical,  you  know,  and  these  good  people, 
even  my  mother,  are  rabid  Conservatives." 

Brooks  smiled  as  he  unfolded  his  serviette. 

"  Well,  Henslow  is  n't  exactly  an  ornamental  can- 
didate," he  said,  "  but  he  is  particularly  sound  and  a 
man  with  any  amount  of  common-sense.  You  should 
come  and  hear  him  speak." 

"  I  'd  love  to,"  she  answered,  "  but  no  one  would 
bring  me  from  here.  They  are  all  hopeless.  Mr. 
Molyneux  there  is  going  to  support  Mr.  Rochester. 
If  I  was  n't  sure  that  he  'd  do  more  harm  than  good, 
I  would  n't  let  him  go.  But  I  don't  suppose  they  '11 
let  you  speak,  Sydney,"  she  added.  "  They  won't  if 
they  've  ever  heard  you." 

Molyneux  smiled  an  imperturbable  smile. 

"  Personally,"  he  said,  "  I  should  prefer  to  lend 
my  moral  support  only,  but  my  fame  as  an  orator  is 


KINGSTON   BROOKS   MAKES   INQUIRIES    61 

f 

too  well  known.    There  is  not  the  least  chance  that 

they  will  let  me  off." 

f     Sybil  looked  at  Brooks. 

I     "  Did  you  ever  hear  such  conceit?  "  she  remarked, 

in  a  pitying  tone.     "  And  I  don't  believe  he  's  ever 

opened  his  mouth  in  the  House,   except  to   shout 

'  Hear,  hear  ' !    Besides,  he 's  as  nervous  as  a  kitten. 

Tell  me,  are  you  going  to  return  Mr.  Henslow  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  Brooks  answered.  "  It  is  certain  to 
be  a  very  close  contest,  but  I  believe  we  shall  get  a 
small  majority.  The  Jingo  element  are  our  greatest 
trouble.  They  are  all  the  time  trying  to  make  people 
believe  that  Conservatives  have  the  monopoly  of  the 
Imperial  sentiment.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  think  that 
Henslow  is  almost  rabid  on  the  war  question." 

"  Still,  your  platform  —  to  use  an  Americanism," 
Mr.  Hennibul  interposed,  "  must  be  founded  upon 
domestic  questions.  Medchester  is  a  manufacturing 
town,  and  I  am  given  to  understand  is  suffering  se- 
verely. Has  your  man  any  original  views  on  the 
present  depression  in  trade  ?  " 

Brooks  glanced  towards  the  speaker  with  a  smile. 

"  You  have  been  reading  the  Medchester  Post! " 
he  remarked. 

The  barrister  nodded. 

"  Yes.  It  hinted  at  some  rather  surprising  rev- 
elation." 

"  You  must  read  Henslow's  speech  at  the  mass 
meeting  to-morrow  night,"  Brooks  said.  "  At  present 
I  must  n't  discuss  these  matters  too  much,  especially 
before  a  political  opponent,"  he  remarked,  smiling  at 
Mr.  Molyneux.  "  You  might  induce  Mr.  Rochester 
to  play  our  trump  card." 


«2  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  If  your  trump  card  is  what  I  suspect  it  to  be," 
Mr.  Hennibul  said,  "  I  don't  think  you  need  fear  that. 
Rochester  would  be  ready  enough  to  try  it,  but  some 
of  his  supporters  would  n't  listen  to  it." 

The  conversation  drifted  away  from  politics. 
Brooks  found  himself  enjoying  his  luncheon  amaz- 
ingly. Sybil  Caroom  devoted  herself  to  him,  and  he 
found  himself  somehow  drawn  with  marvellous 
facility  into  the  little  circle  of  intimate  friends. 
Afterwards  they  all  strolled  into  the  hall  together 
for  coffee,  and  Arranmore  laid  his  hand  upon  his 
arm. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  you  will  not  have  time  to  look 
round  the  place,"  he  said.  "  You  must  come  over 
again  before  long." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  Brooks  said,  dropping  his 
voice  a  little.  "  There  are  one  or  two  more  things 
which  I  should  like  to  ask  you  about  Canada." 

"  I  shall  always  be  at  your  service,"  Lord  Arran- 
more answered. 

"  And  I  cannot  go,"  Brooks  continued,  "  without 
thanking  you " 

"  We  will  take  that  for  granted,"  Arranmore  in- 
terrupted. "  You  know  the  spirit  in  which  I  gave  it. 
It  is  not,  I  fear,  one  of  sympathy,  but  it  may  at  any 
rate  save  me  from  having  my  carriage  windows 
broken  one  dark  night.  By  the  bye,  I  have  ordered  a 
brougham  for  you  in  half-an-hour.  As  you  see,  it  is 
raining.  Your  bicycle  shall  be  sent  in  to-morrow." 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you  indeed,"  Brooks  declared. 

"  Molyneux  has  to  go  in,  so  you  may  just  as  well 
drive  together,"  Arranmore  remarked.  "  By  the  bye, 
do  you  shoot?" 


KINGSTON   BROOKS   MAKES   INQUIRIES    63 

"  A  little,"  Brooks  admitted. 

"  You  must  have  a  day  with  us.  My  head  keeper  is 
coming  up  this  afternoon,  and  I  will  try  and  arrange 
something.  The  election  is  next  week,  of  course. 
We  must  plan  a  day  after  then." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  my  performance  would  scarcely 
be  up  to  your  standard,"  Brooks  said,  "  although  it 
is  very  kind  of  you  to  ask  me.  I  might  come  and 
look  on." 

Arranmore  laughed. 

"  Hennibul  is  all  right,"  he  said,  "  but  Molyneux 
is  a  shocking  duffer.  We  '11  give  you  an  easy  place. 
We  have  some  early  callers,  I  see." 

The  butler  was  moving  towards  them,  followed  by 
two  men  in  hunting-clothes. 

"  Sir  George  Marson  and  Mr.  Lacroix,  your  lord- 
ship," he  announced. 

For  a  second  Arranmore  stood  motionless.  His 
eyes  seemed  to  pass  through  the  man  in  pink,  who 
was  approaching  with  outstretched  hand,  and  to  be 
fastened  upon  the  face  of  his  companion.  It  chanced 
that  Brooks,  who  had  stepped  a  little  on  one  side,  was 
watching  his  host,  and  for  the  second  time  in  one  day 
he  saw  things  which  amazed  him.  His  expression 
seemed  frozen  on  to  his  face  —  something  underneath 
seemed  struggling  for  expression.  In  a  second  it 
had  all  passed  away.  Brooks  could  almost  have  per- 
suaded himself  that  it  was  fancy. 

"  Come  for  something  to  eat,  Arranmore,"  Sir 
George  declared,  hungrily.  "  My  second  man  's  gone 
off  with  the  sandwich-case  —  hunting  on  his  own,  I 
believe.  I  '11  sack  him  to-morrow.  Here 's  my  friend 
Lacroix,  who  says  you  saved  him  from  starvation 


64  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

once  before  out  in  the  wilds  somewhere.  Awfully 
sorry  to  take  you  by  storm  like  this,  but  we  're  twelve 
miles  from  home,  and  it's  a  God-forsaken  country 
for  inns." 

"  Luncheon  for  two  at  once,  Groves,"  Lord  Arran- 
more  answered.  "  Delighted  to  meet  you  again,  Mr. 
Lacroix.  Last  time  we  were  both  of  us  in  very  differ- 
ent trim." 

Lady  Caroom  came  gliding  up  to  them,  and  shook' 
hands  with  Sir  George. 

"  This  sounds  so  interesting,"  she  murmured. 
"  Did  you  say  that  you  met  Lord  Arranmore  in 
his  exploring  days?"  she  asked,  turning  to  Mr. 
Lacroix. 

"  I  found  Lord  Arranmore  in  a  log  hut  which  he 
had  built  himself  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Ono,"  La- 
croix said,  smiling.  "  And  when  I  tell  you  that  I 
had  lost  all  my  stores,  and  that  his  was  the  only 
dwelling-place  for  fifty  miles  around,  you  can  imagine 
that  his  hospitality  was  more  welcome  to  me  then 
even  than  to-day." 

Brooks,  who  was  standing  near,  could  not  repress 
a  start.  He  fancied  that  Lord  Arranmore  glanced  in 
his  direction. 

Lady  Caroom  shuddered. 

"  The  only  dwelling-house  for  fifty  miles,"  she 
repeated.  "  What  hideous  misanthropy." 

"  There  was  no  doubt  about  it,"  Lacroix  declared, 
smiling.  "  My  Indian  guide,  who  knew  every  inch 
of  the  country,  told  me  so  many  times.  I  can  assure 
you  that  Lord  Arranmore,  whom  I  am  very  pleased 
to  meet  again,  was  a  very  different  person  in  those 
days." 


KINGSTON   BROOKS   MAKES   INQUIRIES    65 

The  butler  glided  up  from  the  background. 
"  Luncheon  is  served  in  the  small  dining-room, 
Sir  George,"  he  announced. 


Molyneux  and  Brooks  drove  in  together  to  Med- 
chester,  and  the  former  was  disposed  —  for  him  — 
to  be  talkative. 

"  Queer  thing  about  Lacroix  turning  up,"  he  re- 
marked. "  I  fancy  our  host  looked  a  bit  staggered." 

"  It  was  enough  to  surprise  him,"  Brooks  an- 
swered. "  From  Lake  Ono  to  Medchester  is  a  long 
way." 

Molyneux  nodded. 

"  By  Jove,  it  is,"  he  affirmed.  "  Queer  stick  our 
host.  Close  as  wax.  I  've  known  him  ever  since  he 
dropped  in  for  the  title  and  estates,  and  I  've  never 
yet  heard  him  open  his  mouth  on  the  subject  of  his 
travels." 

"Was  he  away  from  England  for  very  long?" 
Brooks  asked. 

"  No  one  knows  where  he  was,"  Molyneux  replied. 
"  Twenty  years  ago  he  was  reading  for  the  Bar  in 
London,  and  he  suddenly  disappeared.  Well,  I  have 
never  met  a  soul  except  Lacroix  to-day  who  has  seen 
anything  of  him  in  the  interval  between  his  disap- 
pearance and  his  coming  to  claim  the  estates.  That 
means  that  for  pretty  well  half  a  lifetime  he  passed 
completely  out  of  the  world.  Poor  beggar !  I  fancy 
that  he  was  hard  up,  for  one  thing." 

To  Brooks  the  subject  was  fascinating,  but  he  had 
an  idea  that  it  was  scarcely  the  best  of  form  to  be 
discussing  their  late  host  with  a  man  who  was  com- 

5 


-66  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

paratively  a  stranger  to  him.  So  he  remained  silent, 
and  Molyneux,  with  a  yawn,  abandoned  the  subject. 

"  Where  does  Rochester  hang  out,  do  you  know?  " 
he  asked  Brooks.  "  I  don't  suppose  for  a  moment  I 
shall  be  able  to  find  him." 

"  His  headquarters  are  at  the  Bell  Hotel,"  Brooks 
replied.  "  You  will  easily  be  able  to  come  across  him, 
for  he  has  a  series  of  ward  meetings  to-night.  I  am 
sorry  that  we  are  to  be  opponents." 

"  We  shan't  quarrel  about  that,"  Molyneux  an- 
swered. "  Here  we  are,  at  Medchester,  then.  Better 
let  him  put  you  down,  and  then  he  can  go  on  with 
me.  You  're  coming  out  to  shoot  at  Enton,  are  n't 
you?" 

"  Lord  Arranmore  was  good  enough  to  ask  me," 
Brooks  answered,  dubiously,  "  but  I  scarcely  know 
whether  I  ought  to  accept.  I  am  such  a  wretched 
shot." 

Molyneux  laughed. 

"Well,  I  couldn't  hit  a  haystack,"  he  said,  "so 
you  need  n't  mind  that.  Besides,  Arranmore  is  n't 
keen  about  his  bag,  like  some  chaps.  Are  these  your 
offices?  See  you  again,  then." 

Brooks  found  a  dozen  matters  waiting  for  his  at- 
tention. But  before  he  settled  down  to  work  he 
wrote  two  letters.  One  was  to  the  man  who  was 
doing  his  work  as  Secretary  to  the  Unemployed 
Fund  during  the  election,  and  with  a  brief  mention 
of  a  large  subscription,  instructed  him  to  open  sev- 
eral relief  stations  which  they  had  been  obliged  to 
close  a  few  days  ago.  And  the  other  letter  was  to 
Victor  Lacroix,  whom  he  addressed  at  Westbury 
Park,  Sir  George  Marson's  seat. 


KINGSTON   BROOKS   MAKES   INQUIRIES    67 

"DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  should  be  exceedingly  obliged  if  you 
would  accord  me  a  few  minutes'  interview  on  a  purely 
personal  matter.  I  will  wait  upon  you  anywhere,  ac- 
cording to  your  convenience. 

"Yours  faithfully, 

"  KINGSTON  BROOKS." 


CHAPTER   IX 

HENSLOW   SPEAKS   OUT 

THE  bomb  was  thrown.  Some  ten  thousand 
people  crowded  together  in  the  market-place 
at  Medchester,  under  what  seemed  to  be  one  huge 
canopy  of  dripping  umbrellas,  heard  for  the  first 
time  for  many  years  a  bold  and  vigorous  attack 
upon  the  principles  which  had  come  to  be  consid- 
ered a  part  of  the  commercial  ritual  of  the  country. 
Henslow  made  the  best  of  a  great  opportunity.  He 
spoke  temperately,  but  without  hesitation,  and  con- 
cluded with  a  biting  and  powerful  onslaught  upon 
that  class  of  Englishmen  who  wilfully  closed  their 
eyes  to  the  prevailing  industrial  depression,  and  en- 
deavoured to  lure  themselves  and  others  into  a  sense 
of  false  security  as  to  the  well-being  of  the  country 
by  means  of  illusive  statistics.  In  his  appreciation 
of  dramatic  effect,  and  the  small  means  by  which  an 
audience  can  be  touched,  Henslow  was  a  past  master. 
Early  in  his  speech  he  had  waved  aside  the  umbrella 
which  a  supporter  was  holding  over  him,  and  regard- 
less of  the  rain,  he  stood  out  in  the  full  glare  of  the 
reflected  gaslight,  a  ponderous,  powerful  figure. 

"  No  one  can  accuse  me,"  he  cried,  "  of  being  a 
pessimist.  Throughout  my  life  I  have  striven  per- 
sonally, and  politically,  to  look  upon  the  brightest 


HENSLOW   SPEAKS   OUT  6g» 

side  of  things.  But  I  count  it  a  crime  to  shut  one's 
eyes  to  the  cloud  in  the  sky,  even  though  it  be  no 
larger  than  a  man's  hand.  Years  ago  that  cloud  was 
there  for  those  who  would  to  see.  To-day  it  looms 
over  us,  a  black  and  threatening  peril,  and  those  who, 
ostrich-like,  still  hide  their  heads  in  the  sand,  are  the 
men  upon  whose  consciences  must  rest  in  the  future 
the  responsibility  for  those  evil  things  which  are  even 
now  upon  us.  Theories  are  evil  things,  but  when 
theory  and  fact  are  at  variance,  give  me  fact.  Theo- 
retically Free  Trade  should  —  I  admit  it  —  make  us 
the  most  prosperous  nation  in  the  world.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  never  since  this  country  commenced  to 
make  history  has  our  commercial  supremacy  been  in 
so  rotten  and  insecure  a  position.  There  is  n't  a 
flourishing  industry  in  the  country,  save  those  which 
provide  the  munitions  of  war,  and  their  prosperity 
is  a  spasmodic,  and  I  might  almost  add,  an  undesir- 
able thing.  Now,  I  am  dealing  with  facts  to-night, 
not  theories,  and  I  am  going  to  quote  certain  unas- 
sailable truths,  and  I  am  going  to  give  you  the  im- 
mediate causes  for  them.  The  furniture  and  joinery 
trade  of  England  is  bad.  There  are  thousands  of 
good  hands  out  of  employment.  They  are  out  of 
work  because  the  manufacturer  has  few  or  no  orders. 
I  want  the  immediate  cause  for  that,  and  I  go  to 
the  manufacturer.  I  ask  him  why  he  has  no  orders. 
He  tells  me,  because  every  steamer  from  America  is 
bringing  huge  consignments  of  ready-made  office  and 
general  furniture,  at  such  prices  or  such  quality  that 
the  English  shopkeepers  prefer  to  stock  them.  Con- 
sequently trade  is  bad  with  him,  and  he  cannot  find 
employment  for  his  men.  I  find  here  in  Medchester 


70  A   PRINCE  OF   SINNERS 

the  boot  and  shoe  trade  in  which  you  are  concerned 
bad.  There  are  thousands  of  you  who  are  willing  to 
work  who  are  out  of  employment.  I  go  to  the  manu- 
facturer, and  I  say  to  him,  '  Why  don't  you  find  em- 
ployment for  your  hands  ? '  '  For  two  reasons/  he 
answers.  '  First,  because  I  have  lost  my  Colonial 
and  some  of  my  home  trade  through  American  com- 
petition, ancf  secondly,  because  of  the  universally  de- 
pressed condition  of  every  kindred  trade  throughout 
the  country,  which  keeps  people  poor  and  prevents 
their  having  money  to  spend.'  Just  now  I  am  not 
considering  the  question  of  why  the  American  can 
send  salable  boots  and  shoes  into  this  country,  al- 
though the  reasons  are  fairly  obvious.  They  have 
nothing  to  do  with  my  point,  however.  We  are 
dealing  to-night  with  immediate  causes! 

"  And  now  as  to  that  depression  throughout  the 
country  which  keeps  people  poor,  as  the  boot  manu- 
facturer puts  it,  and  prevents  their  having  money 
to  spend.  I  am  going  to  take  several  trades  one 
by  one,  and  ascertain  the  immediate  cause  of  their 
depression  —  " 

He  had  hold  of  his  audience,  and  he  made  good 
use  of  his  advantage.  He  quoted  statistics,  showing 
the  decrease  of  exports  and  relative  increase  of  im- 
ports. How  could  we  hope  to  retain  our  accumu- 
lated wealth  under  such  conditions?  —  and  finally 
he  abandoned  theorizing  and  argument,  and  boldly 
declared  his  position. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  he  concluded,  "  what  practical 
means  I  intend  to  bring  to  bear  upon  the  situation. 
I  base  my  projected  action  upon  this  truism,  which 
is  indeed  the  very  kernel  of  my  creed.  I  say  that 


HENSLOW    SPEAKS   OUT  71 

every  man  willing  and  able  to  work  should  have  work, 
and  I  say  that  it  is  the  duty  of  legislators  to  see  that 
he  has  it.  To-day  there  are  one  hundred  thousand 
men  and  women  hanging  about  our  streets  deterio- 
rating morally  and  physically  through  the  impossi- 
bility of  following  their  trade.  I  say  that  it  is  time 
for  legislators  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of  this,  and 
to  remedy  it.  So  I  propose  to  move  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  should  your  votes  enable  me  to  find  my- 
self there,  that  a  Royal  Commission  be  immediately 
appointed  to  deal  with  this  matter.  And  I  propose, 
further,  to  insist  that  this  Commission  be  composed 
of  manufacturers  and  business  men,  and  that  we 
dispense  with  all  figure-heads,  and  I  can  promise 
you  this,  that  the  first  question  which  shall  engage 
the  attention  of  these  men  shall  be  an  immediate  re- 
vision of  our  tariffs.  We  won't  have  men  with 
theories  which  work  out  beautifully  on  paper,  and 
bring  a  great  country  into  the  throes  of  commercial 
ruin.  We  won't  have  men  who  think  that  the  laws 
their  fathers  made  are  good  enough  for  them,  and 
that  all  change  is  dangerous,  because  Englishmen 
are  sure  to  fight  their  way  through  in  the  long  run 
—  a  form  of  commercial  Jingoism  to  which  I  fear 
we  are  peculiarly  prone.  We  don't  want  scholars  or 
statisticians.  We  want  a  commission  of  plain  busi- 
ness men,  and  I  promise  you  that  if  we  get  them, 
there  shall  be  presented  to  Parliament  before  I  meet 
you  again  practical  measures  which  I  honestly  and 
firmly  believe  will  start  a  wave  of  commercial  pros- 
perity throughout  the  country  such  as  the  oldest 
amongst  you  cannot  remember.  We  have  the  crafts- 
men, the  capital,  and  the  brains  —  all  that  we  need 


72  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

is  legislation  adapted  to  the  hour  and  not  the  last 
century,  and  we  can  hold  our  own  yet  in  the  face  of 
the  world." 


Afterwards,  at  the  political  club  and  at  the  com- 
mittee-room, there  was  much  excited  conversation 
concerning  the  effect  of  Henslow's  bold  declaration. 
iThe  general  impression  was,  this  election  was  now 
assured.  A  shouting  multitude  followed  him  to  his 
hotel,  popular  sentiment  was  touched,  and  even  those 
who  had  been  facing  the  difficulty  of  life  with  a  sort 
of  dogged  despair  for  years  were  raised  into  enthu- 
siasm. His  words  begat  hope. 

In  the  committee-room  there  was  much  excitement 
and  a  good  deal  of  speculation.  Every  one  realized 
that  the  full  effect  of  this  daring  plunge  could  not 
be  properly  gauged  until  after  it  had  stood  the  test 
of  print.  But  on  the  'whole  comment  was  strikingly 
optimistic.  Brooks  for  some  time  was  absent.  In 
the  corridor  he  had  come  face  to  face  with  Mary 
Scott.  Her  eyes  flashed  with  pleasure  at  the  sight 
of  him,  and  she  held  out  her  hand  frankly. 

"  You  heard  it  all  ?  "  he  asked,  eagerly. 

"  Yes  —  every  word.  Tell  me,  you  understand 
these  things  so  much  better  than  I  do.  Is  this  an 
election  dodge,  or — is  he  in  earnest?  Was  he  speak- 
ing the  truth?" 

"  The  honest  truth,  I  believe,"  he  answered,  lead- 
ing her  a  little  away  from  the  crowd  of  people.  "  He 
is  of  course  pressing  this  matter  home  for  votes,  but 
he  is  very  much  in  earnest  himself  about  it." 

"  And  you  think  that  he  is  on  the  right  track  ?  " 


HENSLOW   SPEAKS   OUT  73 

"  I  really  believe  so,"  he  answered.  "  In  fact  I 
am  strongly  in  favour  of  making  experiments  in  the 
direction  he  spoke  of.  By  the  bye,  Miss  Scott,  I 
have  something  to  tell  you.  You  remember  telling 
me  about  Lord  Arranmore  and  his  refusal  to  sub- 
scribe to  the  Unemployed  Fund  ?  " 

"Yes!" 

"  He  has  been  approached  again  —  the  facts  have 
been  more  fully  made  known  to  him,  and  he  has  sent 
a  cheque  for  one  thousand  pounds." 

She  received  the  news  with  a  coldness  which  he 
found  surprising. 

"  I  think  I  can  guess,"  she  said,  quietly,  "  who  the 
second  applicant  was." 

"  I  went  to  see  him  myself,"  he  admitted. 

'  You  must  be  very  eloquent,"  she  remarked,  with 
a  smile  which  he  could  not  quite  understand.  "  A! 
thousand  pounds  is  a  great  deal  of  money." 

"  It  is  nothing  to  Lord  Arranmore,"  he  answered. 

"  Less  than  nothing,"  she  admitted,  readily.  "  I 
would  rather  that  he  had  stopped  in  the  street  and 
given  half-a-crown  to  a  hungry  child." 

"  Still  —  it  is  a  magnificent  gift,"  he  declared. 
"  We  can  open  all  our  relief  stations  again.  I  be- 
lieve that  you  are  a  little  prejudiced  against  Lord 
Arranmore." 

"I?"  She  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "How  should 
I  be?  I  have  never  spoken  a  word  to  him  in  my; 
life.  But  I  think  that  he  has  a  hard,  cynical  face, 
and  a  hateful  expression." 

Brooks  disagreed  with  her  frankly. 

"  He  seems  to  me,"  he  declared,  "  like  a  man  who 
has  had  a  pretty  rough  time,  and  I  believe  he  had 


74  A   PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

in  his  younger  days,  but  I  do  not  believe  that  he  is 
really  either  hard  or  cynical.  He  has  some  odd 
views  as  regards  charity,  but  upon  my  word  they 
are  logical  enough." 

She  smiled. 

"Well,  we'll  not  disagree  about  him,"  she  de- 
clared. "  I  wonder  how  long  my  uncle  means  to 
be." 

"Shall  I  find  out?"  he  asked. 

"  Would  it  be  troubling  you  ?  He  is  so  excited  that 
I  dare  say  he  has  forgotten  all  about  me." 

Which  was  precisely  what  he  had  done.  Brooks 
found  him  the  centre  of  an  animated  little  group, 
with  a  freshly-lit  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  every  ap- 
pearance of  having  settled  down  to  spend  the  night. 
He  was  almost  annoyed  when  Brooks  reminded  him 
of  his  niece. 

"  God  bless  my  soul,  I  forgot  all  about  Mary,"  he 
exclaimed  with  vexation.  "  She  must  go  and  sit 
somewhere.  I  shan't  be  ready  yet.  Henslow  wants 
us  to  go  down  to  the  Bell,  and  have  a  bit  of 
supper." 

"  In  that  case,"  Brooks  said,  "  you  had  better  allow 
me  to  take  Miss  Scott  home,  and  I  will  come  then 
to  you." 

"  Capital,  if  you  really  don't  mind,"  Mr.  Bullsom 
declared.  "  Put  her  in  a  cab.  Don't  let  her  be  a 
bother  to  you." 

Brooks  found  her  reluctant  to  take  him  away,  but 
he  pleaded  a  headache,  and  assured  her  that  his  work 
for  the  night  was  over.  Outside  he  led  her  away 
from  the  centre  of  the  town  to  a  quiet  walk  leading 
to  the  suburb  where  she  lived.  Here  the  streets 


HENSLOW   SPEAKS   OUT  75 

seemed  strangely  silent,  and  Brooks  walked  hat  in 
hand,  heedless  of  the  rain  which  was  still  sprinkling. 

"  Oh,  this  is  good,"  he  murmured.  "  How  one 
wearies  of  these  crowds." 

"  All  the  same,"  she  answered,  smiling,  "  I  think 
that  your  place  just  now  is  amongst  them,  and  I 
shall  not  let  you  take  me  further  than  the  top  of  the 
hill." 

Brooks  looked  down  at  her  and  laughed. 

"  What  a  very  determined  person  you  are,"  he 
said.  "  I  will  take  you  to  the  top  of  the  hill  —  and 
then  we  will  see." 


CHAPTER   X 

A   TEMPTING   OFFER 

THE  small  boy  brought  in  the  card  and  laid  it 
on  Brooks'  desk  with  a  flourish. 

"  He  's  outside,  sir  —  in  Mr.  Barton's  room.  Shall 
I  show  him  in?  " 

Brooks  for  a  moment  hesitated.  He  glanced  at  a 
letter  which  lay  open  upon  the  desk  before  him,  and 
which  he  had  read  and  re-read  many  times.  The 
boy  repeated  his  inquiry. 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  he  answered.  "  Show  him  in 
at  once." 

Lord  Arranmore,  more  than  usually  immaculate, 
strolled  in,  hat  in  hand,  and  carefully  selecting  the 
most  comfortable  chair,  seated  himself  on  the  other 
side  of  the  open  table  at  which  Brooks  was  working. 

"How  are  you,  Brooks?"  he  inquired,  tersely. 
"  Busy,  of  course.  An  aftermath  of  work,  I  suppose." 

"  A  few  months  ago,"  Brooks  answered,  "  I  should 
have  considered  myself  desperately  busy.  But  after 
last  week  anything  ordinary  in  the  shape  of  work 
seems  restful." 

Lord  Arranmore  nodded. 

"  I  must  congratulate  you,  I  suppose,"  he  remarked. 
"  You  got  your  man  in." 

"  We  got  him  in  all  right,"  Brooks  assented.  "Our 
majority  was  less  than  we  had  hoped  for,  though." 


A  TEMPTING   OFFER  77 

Lord  Arranmore  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  It  was  large  enough,"  he  answered,  "  and  after  all 
it  was  a  clear  gain  of  a  seat  to  your  party,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  seat  which  we  Radicals  had  a  right  to," 
Brooks  declared.  "  Now  that  the  storm  of  Imperial- 
ism is  quieting  down  and  people  are  beginning  to 
realize  that  matters  nearer  home  need  a  little  atten- 
tion, I  cannot  see  how  the  manufacturing  centres  can 
do  anything  save  return  Radicals.  We  are  the  only 
party  with  a  definite  home  policy." 

Lord  Arranmore  nodded. 

"  Just  so,"  he  remarked,  indifferently.  "  I  need  n't 
say  that  I  did  n't  come  here  to  talk  politics.  There 
was  a  little  matter  of  business  which  I  wished  to  put 
before  you." 

Brooks  looked  up  in  some  surprise. 

"  Business !  "  he  repeated,  a  little  vaguely. 

:<  Yes.  As  you  are  aware,  Mr.  Morrison  has  had 
the  control  of  the  Enton  estates  for  many  years.  He 
was  a  very  estimable  man,  and  he  performed  his 
duties  so  far  as  I  know  quite  satisfactorily.  Now  that 
he  is  dead,  however,  I  intend  to  make  a  change.  The 
remaining  partners  in  his  firm  are  unknown  to  me, 
and  I  at  once  gave  them  notice  of  my  intention. 
Would  you  care  to  undertake  the  legal  management 
of  my  estates  in  this  part  of  the  world?  " 

Brooks  felt  the  little  colour  he  had  leave  his  cheeks. 
For  a  moment  he  was  quite  speechless. 

"  I  scarcely  know  how  to  answer,  or  to  thank  you, 
Lord  Arranmore,"  he  said  at  last.  "  This  is  such  a 
surprising  offer.  I  scarcely  see  how  you  can  be  in 
earnest.  You  know  so  little  of  me." 

Lord  Arranmore  shrugged  his  shoulders. 


78  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  Really,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  see  anything  very  sur- 
prising in  it.  Morrisons  have  a  large  practice,  and 
without  the  old  man  I  scarcely  see  how  they  could 
continue  to  give  my  affairs  the  attention  they  require. 
You,  on  the  other  hand,  are  only  just  starting,  and 
you  would  be  able  to  watch  over  my  interests  more 
closely.  Then  —  although  I  cannot  pretend  that  I 
am  much  influenced  by  sentimental  reasons  —  still, 
I  knew  your  father,  and  the  strangeness  of  our  few 
years  of  life  as  neighbours  inclines  me  to  be  of  ser- 
vice to  you  provided  I  myself  am  not  the  sufferer. 
As  to  that  I  am  prepared  to  take  the  risk.  You  see 
mine  is  only  the  usual  sort  of  generosity  —  the  sort 
which  provides  for  an  adequate  quid  pro  quo.  Of 
course,  if  you  think  that  the  undertaking  of  my  affairs 
would  block  you  in  other  directions  do  not  hesitate 
to  say  so.  This  is  a  matter  of  business  between  us, 
pure  and  simple." 

Brooks  had  recovered  himself.  The  length  of  Lord 
Arranmore's  speech  and  his  slow  drawl  had  given 
him  an  opportunity  to  do  so.  He  glanced  for  a 
moment  at  the  letter  which  lay  upon  his  desk,  and 
hated  it. 

"  In  an  ordinary  way,  Lord  Arranmore,"  he  an- 
swered, "  there  could  be  only  one  possible  reply  to 
such  an  offer  as  you  have  made  me  —  an  immediate 
and  prompt  acceptance.  If  I  seem  to  hesitate,  it  is 
because,  first  —  I  must  tell  you  something.  I  must 
make  something  —  in  the  nature  of  a  confession." 

Lord  Arranmore  raised  his  eyebrows,  but  his  face 
remained  as  the  face  of  a  Sphinx.  He  sat  still,  and 
waited. 

"  On  the  occasion  of  my  visit  to  you,"  Brooks  con- 


A   TEMPTING   OFFER  79 

tinned,  "  you  may  remember  the  presence  of  a  certain 
Mr.  Lacroix  ?  He  is  the  author,  I  believe,  of  several 
books  of  travel  in  Western  Canada,  and  has  the 
reputation  of  knowing  that  part  of  the  country  ex- 
ceedingly well." 

Brooks  paused,  but  his  visitor  helped  him  in  no 
way.  His  face  wore  still  its  passive  expression  of 
languid  inquiry. 

"  He  spoke  of  his  visit  to  you,"  Brooks  went  on, 
"  in  Canada,  and  he  twice  reiterated  the  fact  that 
there  was  no  other  dwelling  within  fifty  miles  of 
you.  He  said  this  upon  his  own  authority,  and  upon 
the  authority  of  his  Indian  guide.  Now  it  is  only  a 
few  days  ago  since  you  spoke  of  my  father  as  living 
for  years  within  a  few  miles  of  you." 

Lord  Arranmore  nodded  his  head  thoughtfully. 

"  Ah !  And  you  found  the  two  statements,  of 
course,  irreconcilable.  Well,  go  on !  " 

Brooks  found  it  difficult.  He  was  grasping  a  paper- 
weight tightly  in  one  hand,  and  he  felt  the  rising 
colour  burn  his  cheeks. 

"  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Lacroix,"  he  said. 

"  A  perfectly  natural  thing  to  do,"  Lord  Arran- 
more remarked,  smoothly. 

"  And  his  answer  is  here !  " 

"  Suppose  you  read  it  to  me,"  Lord  Arranmore 
suggested. 

Brooks  took  up  the  letter  and  read  it. 

"TRAVELLERS'  CLUB,  December  10. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Replying  to  your  recent  letter,  I  have  not  the 
slightest  hesitation  in  reaffirming  the  statement  to  which 


8o  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

you  refer.  I  am  perfectly  convinced  that  at  the  time  of 
my  visit  to  Lord  Arranmore  on  the  bank  of  Lake  Ono, 
there  was  no  Englishman  or  dwelling-place  of  any  sort 
within  a  radius  of  fifty  miles.  The  information  which 
you  have  received  is  palpably  erroneous. 

"  Why  not  refer  to  Lord  Arranmore  himself  ?  He 
would  certainly  confirm  what  I  say,  and  finally  dispose 
of  the  matter. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  VICTOR  LACROIX." 

"  A  very  interesting  letter,"  Lord  Arranmore  re- 
marked. "Well?" 

Brooks  crumpled  the  letter  up  and  flung  it  into 
the  waste-paper  basket. 

"  Lord  Arranmore,"  he  said,  "  I  made  this  inquiry 
behind  your  back,  and  in  a  sense  I  am  ashamed  of 
having  done  so.  Yet  I  beg  you  to  put  yourself  in 
my  position.  You  must  admit  that  my  father's  dis- 
appearance from  the  world  was  a  little  extraordinary. 
He  was  a  man  whose  life  was  more  than  exemplary 
—  it  was  saintly.  For  year  after  year  he  worked 
in  the  police-courts  amongst  the  criminal  classes. 
His  whole  life  was  one  long  record  of  splendid  de- 
votion. His  health  at  last  breaks  down,  and  he  is 
sent  by  his  friends  for  a  voyage  to  Australia.  He 
never  returns.  Years  afterwards  his  papers  and  par- 
ticulars of  his  death  are  sent  home  from  one  of  the 
loneliest  spots  in  the  Empire.  A  few  weeks  ago  you 
found  me  out  and  told  me  of  his  last  days.  You  see 
what  I  must  believe.  That  he  wilfully  deserted  his 
wife  and  son  —  myself.  That  he  went  into  lonely 
and  inexplicable  solitude  for  no  apparent  or  possible 
reason.  That  he  misused  the  money  subscribed  by 


A   TEMPTING   OFFER  8r 

his  friends  in  order  that  he  might  take  this  trip  to 
Australia.    Was  ever  anything  more  irreconcilable?  " 

"  From  your  point  of  view  —  perhaps  not,"  Lord 
Arranmore  answered.  "  You  must  enlarge  it." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  how  ?  "  Brooks  demanded. 

Lord  Arranmore  stifled  a  yawn.  He  had  the  air 
of  one  wearied  by  a  profitless  discussion. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  might  certainly  suggest  a  few 
things.  Who  was  your  trustee  or  guardian,  or  your 
father's  man  of  business?" 

"  Mr.  Ascough,  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields." 

"  Exactly.  Your  father  saw  him,  of  course,  prior 
to  his  departure  from  England." 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  is  it  not  a  fact  that  instead  of  making  a 
will  your  father  made  over  by  deed  of  gift  the  whole 
of  his  small  income  to  your  mother  in  trust  for  you?  " 

"  Yes,  he  did  that,"  Brooks  admitted. 

Lord  Arranmore  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Think  that  over,"  he  remarked.  "  Does  n't  that 
suggest  his  already  half-formed  intention  never  to 
return?" 

"It  never  struck  me  in  that  way,"  Brooks  answered. 

"Yet  it  is  obvious,"  Lord  Arranmore  said.  "  Now, 
I  happen  to  know  from  your  father  himself  that  he 
never  intended  to  go  to  Australia,  and  he  never  in- 
tended to  return  to  England.  He  sailed  instead  by 
an  Allan  liner  from  Liverpool  to  Quebec  under  the 
name  of  Francis.  He  went  straight  to  Montreal,  and 
he  stayed  there  until  he  had  spent  the  greater  part  of 
his  money.  Then  he  drifted  out  west.  There  is  his 
history  for  you  in  a  few  words." 

A  sudden  light  flashed  in  Brooks'  eyes. 

6 


82  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  He  told  you  that  he  left  England  meaning  never 
to  return?  Then  you  have  the  key  to  the  whole 
thing.  Why  not?  That  is  what  I  want  to  know. 
Why  not?" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  Lord  Arranmore  answered, 
coolly.  "  He  never  told  me." 

Brooks  felt  a  sudden  chill  of  disappointment. 
Lord  Arranmore  rose  slowly  to  his  feet. 

"  Mr.  Brooks,"  he  said,  "  I  have  told  you  all  that  I 
know.  You  have  asked  me  a  question  which  I  have 
not  been  able  to  answer.  I  can,  however,  give  you 
some  advice  which  I  will  guarantee  to  be  excellent  — 
some  advice  which  you  will  do  well  to  follow.  Shall 
I  go  on?" 

"If  you  please!" 

"  Do  not  seek  to  unravel  any  further  what  may 
seem  to  you  to  be  the  mystery  of  your  father's  dis- 
appearance from  the  world.  Depend  upon  it,  his 
action  was  of  his  own  free  will,  and  he  had  excellent 
reasons  for  it.  If  he  had  wished  you  to  know  them 
he  would  have  communicated  with  you.  Remember, 
I  was  with  your  father  during  his  last  days  —  and 
this  is  my  advice  to  you." 

Brooks  pointed  downward  to  the  crumpled  ball  of 
paper. 

"  That  letter !  "  he  exclaimed. 

Lord  Arranmore  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  scarcely  see  its  significance,"  he  said.  "  It  is 
not  even  my  word  against  Lacroix'.  I  sent  you  all 
your  father's  papers,  I  brought  back  photographs 
and  keepsakes  known  to  belong  to  him.  In  what  pos- 
sible way  could  it  benefit  me  to  mislead  you  ?  " 

The  telephone  on  Brooks'  table  rang,  and  for  a 


A   TEMPTING   OFFER  83 

moment  or  two  he  found  himself,  with  mechanical 
self-possession,  attending  to  some  unimportant  ques- 
tion. When  he  replaced  the  receiver  Lord  Arran- 
more  had  resumed  his  seat,  but  was  drawing  on  his 
gloves. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  let  us  resume  our  business  talk. 
I  have  made  you  an  offer.  What  have  you  to  say  ?  " 

Brooks  pointed  to  the  waste-paper  basket. 

"  I  did  a  mean  action,"  he  said.  "  I  am  ashamed 
of  it.  Do  you  mean  that  your  offer  remains  open?  " 

"  Certainly,"  Lord  Arranmore  answered.  "  That 
little  affair  is  not  worth  mentioning.  I  should  prob- 
ably have  done  the  same." 

"  Well,  I  am  not  altogether  a  madman,"  Brooks 
declared,  smiling,  "  so  I  will  only  say  that  I  accept 
your  offer  gratefully  —  and  I  will  do  my  very  best 
to  deserve  your  confidence." 

Lord  Arranmore  rose  and  stood  with  his  hands 
behind  him,  looking  out  of  the  window. 

"  Very  good,"  he  said.  "  I  will  send  for  Ascough 
to  come  down  from  town,  and  we  must  meet  one 
day  next  week  at  Morrisons'  office,  and  go  into  mat- 
ters thoroughly.  That  reminds  me.  Busher,  my 
head  bailiff,  will  be  in  to  see  you  this  afternoon. 
There  are  half-a-dozen  leases  to  be  seen  to  at  once, 
and  everything  had  better  come  here  until  the  arrange- 
ments are  concluded." 

"  I  shall  be  in  all  the  afternoon,"  Brooks  answered, 
still  a  little  dazed. 

"  And  Thursday,"  Lord  Arranmore  concluded, 
"  you  dine  and  sleep  at  Enton.  I  hope  we  shall  have 
a  good  day's  sport.  The  carriage  will  fetch  you  at 
6.30.  Good-morning." 


84  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Lord  Arranmore  walked  out  with  a  little  nod,  but 
on  the  threshold  he  paused  and  looked  back. 

"  By  the  bye,  Brooks,"  he  said,  "  do  you  remember 
my  meeting  you  in  a  little  tea-shop  almost  the  day 
after  I  first  called  upon  you  ?  " 

"  Quite  well,"  Brooks  answered. 

:<  You  had  a  young  lady  with  you." 

"  Yes.    I  was  with  Miss  Scott." 

Lord  Arranmore's  hand  fell  from  the  handle.    His 
eyes  seemed  suddenly  full  of  fierce  questioning.    He 
moved  a  step  forward  into  the  room. 
i      "Miss  Scott?    Who  is  she?" 

Brooks  was  hopelessly  bewildered,  and  showed  it. 
\     ""  She  lives  with  her  uncle  in  Medchester.     He  is 
a  builder  and  timber  merchant." 
j     Lord  Arranmore  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  Her  father,  then,  is  dead  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  He  died  abroad,  I  think,"  Brooks  answered,  "  but 
I  really  am  not  sure.    I  know  very  little  of  any  of 
them." 
|     Lord  Arranmore  turned  away. 

"  She  is  the  image  of  a  man  I  once  knew,"  he  re- 
marked, "  but  after  all,  the  type  is  not  an  uncommon 
one.  You  won't  forget  that  Busher  will  be  in  this 
afternoon.  He  is  a  very  intelligent  fellow  for  his 
class,  and  you  may  find  it  worth  your  while  to  ask 
him  a  few  questions.  Until  Thursday,  then." 

"  Until  Thursday,"  Brooks  repeated,  mechanically. 


CHAPTER    XI 

WHO   THE   DEVIL   IS   BROOKS? 

be  tired,"  declared  Sydney  Molyneux,  sink- 
ing  into  a  low  couch,  "  to  be  downright  dead 
dog-tired  is  the  most  delightful  thing  in  the  world. 
Will  some  one  give  me  some  tea?" 

Brooks  laughed  softly  from  his  place  in  front  of 
the  open  fire.  A  long  day  in  the  fresh  north  wind 
had  driven  the  cobwebs  from  his  brain,  and  brought 
the  burning  colour  ,to  his  cheeks.  His  eyes  were 
bright,  and  his  laughter  was  like  music. 

"  And  you,"  he  exclaimed,  "  are  fresh  from  elec- 
tioneering. Why,  fatigue  like  this  is  a  luxury." 

Molyneux  lit  a  cigarette  and  looked  longingly  at 
the  tea-tray  set  out  in  the  middle  of  the  hall. 

"  That  is  all  very  well,"  he  said,  "  but  there  is  a 
wide  difference  between  the  two  forms  of  exercise. 
In  electioneering  one  can  use  one's  brain,  and  my 
brain  is  never  weary.  It  is  capable  of  the  most  stupen- 
dous exertions.  It  is  my  legs  that  fail  me  sometimes. 
Here  comes  Lady  Caroom  at  last.  Why  does  she  look 
as  though  she  had  seen  a  ghost  ?  " 

That  great  staircase  at  Enton  came  right  into  the 
hall.  A  few  steps  from  the  bottom  Lady  Caroom  had 
halted,  and  her  appearance  was  certainly  a  little  un- 
usual. Every  vestige  of  colour  had  left  her  cheeks. 
Her  right  hand  was  clutching  the  oak  banisters,  her 


86  A   PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

eyes  were  fixed  upon  Brooks.  He  was  for  a  moment 
embarrassed,  but  he  stepped  forward  to  meet  her. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Lady  Caroom?  "  he  said.  "  We 
are  all  in  the  shadows  here,  and  Mr.  Molyneux  is 
crying  out  for  his  tea." 

She  resumed  her  progress  and  greeted  Brooks 
graciously.  Almost  at  the  same  moment  a  footman 
brought  lamps,  and  the  tea  was  served.  Lady  Caroom 
glanced  again  with  a  sort  of  curious  nervousness  at 
the  young  man  who  stood  by  her  side. 

"  You  are  a  little  earlier  than  we  expected,"  she 
remarked,  seating  herself  before  the  tea-tray.  "  Here 
comes  Sybil.  She  is  dying  to  congratulate  you,  Mr. 
Brooks.  Is  Arranmore  here?" 

"  We  left  him  in  the  gun-room,"  Molyneux  an- 
swered. "  He  is  coming  directly." 

Sybil  Caroom,  in  a  short  skirt  and  a  jaunty  hat, 
came  towards  Brooks  with  outstretched  hand. 

"  Delightful !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  only  wish  that 
it  had  been  nine  thousand  instead  of  nine  hundred. 
[You  deserved  it." 

Brooks  laughed  heartily. 

"  Well,  we  were  satisfied  to  win  the  seat,"  he 
declared. 

Molyneux  leaned  forward  tea-cup  in  hand. 

"  Well,  you  deserved  it,"  he  remarked.  "  Our  old 
man  opened  his  mouth  a  bit,  but  yours  knocked  him 
silly.  Upon  my  word,  I  did  n't  think  that  any  one 
man  had  cheek  stupendous  enough  to  humbug  a 
constituency  like  Henslow  did.  It  took  my  breath 
away  to  read  his  speeches." 

"Do  you  really  mean  that?"  asked  Brooks. 

"  Mean  it  ?    Of  course  I  do.    What  I  can't  under- 


WHO   THE   DEVIL   IS   BROOKS?         87 

stand  is  how  people  can  swallow  such  stuff,  election 
after  election.  Does  n't  every  Radical  candidate  get 
up  and  talk  in  the  same  maudlin  way  —  has  n't  he 
done  so  for  the  last  fifty  years?  And  when  he  gets 
into  Parliament  is  there  a  more  Conservative  person 
on  the  face  of  the  earth  than  the  Radical  member 
pledged  to  social  reform  ?  It 's  the  same  with  your 
man  Henslow.  He'll  do  nothing!  He'll  attempt 
nothing!  Silly  farce,  politics,  I  think." 

Lady  Caroom  laughed  softly. 

"  I  have  never  heard  you  so  eloquent  in  my  life, 
Sydney,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Do  go  on.  It  is  most 
entertaining.  When  you  have  quite  finished  I  can 
see  that  Mr.  Brooks  is  getting  ready  to  pulverize 
you." 

Brooks  shook  his  head. 

"  Lady  Sybil  tells  me  that  Mr.  Molyneux  is  not 
to  be  taken  seriously,"  he  answered. 

Molyneux  brought  up  his  cup  for  some  more  tea. 

"  Don't  you  listen  to  Lady  Sybil,  Brooks,"  he 
retorted.  "  She  is  annoyed  with  me  because  I  have 
been  spoken  of  as  a  future  Prime  Minister,  and  she 
rather  fancies  her  cousin  for  the  post.  Two  knobs, 
please,  and  plenty  of  cream.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I 
am  in  serious  and  downright  earnest.  I  say  that 
Henslow  won  his  seat  by  kidding  the  working  classes. 
He  promised  them  a  sort  of  political  Arabian  Nights. 
He  '11  go  up  to  Westminster,  and  I  'm  open  to  bet 
what  you  like  that  he  makes  not  one  serious  practical 
effort  to  push  forward  one  of  the  startling  measures 
he  talked  about  so  glibly.  I  will  trouble  you  for  the 
toast,  Brooks.  Thanks !  " 

"  He  is  always  cynical  like  this,"  Sybil  murmured, 


88  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  when  his  party  have  lost  a  seat.  Don't  take  any 
notice  of  him,  Mr.  Brooks.  I  have  great  faith  in  Mr. 
Henslow,  and  I  believe  that  he  will  do  his  best." 

Molyneux  smiled. 

"  Henslow  is  a  politician/'  he  remarked,  "  a  pro- 
fessional politician.  What  you  Radicals  want  is  Eng- 
lishmen who  are  interested  in  politics.  Henslow 
knows  how  to  get  votes.  He 's  got  his  seat,  and 
he'll  keep  it  —  till  the  next  election." 

Brooks  shook  his  head. 

"  Henslow  has  rather  a  platform  manner,"  he  said, 
"  but  he  is  sound  enough.  I  believe  that  we  are  on 
the  eve  of  important  changes  in  our  social  legislation, 
and  I  believe  that  Henslow  will  have  much  to  say 
about  them.  At  any  rate,  he  is  not  a  rank  hypocrite. 
We  have  shown  him  things  in  Medchester  which  he 
can  scarcely  forget  in  a  hurry.  He  will  go  to  West- 
minster with  the  memory  of  these  things  before  him, 
with  such  a  cry  in  his  ears  as  no  man  can  stifle.  He 
might  forget  if  he  would  —  but  he  never  will.  We 
have  shown  him  things  which  men  may  not  forget.'' 

Lord  Arranmore,  who  had  now  joined  the  party, 
leaned  forward  with  his  arm  resting  lightly  upon 
Lady  Caroom's  shoulder.  An  uneasy  light  flashed  in 
his  eyes. 

"  There  are  men,"  he  said,  "  whom  you  can  never 
reach,  genial  men  with  a  ready  smile  and  a  prompt 
cheque-book,  whose  selfishness  is  an  armour  more 
potent  than  the  armour  of  my  forefather  there,  Sir 
Ronald  Kingston  of  Arranmore.  And,  after  all, 
why  not?  The  thoroughly  selfish  man  is  the  only 
person  logically  who  has  the  slightest  chance  of 
happiness." 


.WHO   THE   DEVIL   IS   BROOKS?         89 

"  It  is  true,"  Molyneux  murmured.  "  Delightfully 
true." 

"  Lord  Arranmore  is  always  either  cynical  or  para- 
doxical," Sybil  Caroom  declared.  "  He  really  says 
the  most  unpleasant  things  with  the  greatest  appear- 
ance of  truth  of  any  man  I  know." 

'  This  company,"  Lord  Arranmore  remarked 
lightly,  "  is  hostile  to  me.  Let  us  go  and  play 
pool." 

Lady  Caroom  rose  up  promptly.  Molyneux 
groaned  audibly. 

"  You  shall  play  me  at  billiards  instead,"  she  de- 
clared. "  I  used  to  give  you  a  good  game  once,  and 
I  have  played  a  great  deal  lately.  Ring  for  Annette, 
will  you,  Sybil  ?  She  has  my  cue." 

Sybil  Caroom  made  room  for  Brooks  by  her 
side. 

"  Do  sit  down  and  tell  me  more  about  the  election," 
she  said.  "  Sydney  is  sure  to  go  to  sleep.  He  always 
does  after  shooting." 

"  You  shall  ask  me  questions,"  he  suggested. 
"  I  scarcely  know  what  part  of  it  would  interest 
you." 

They  talked  together  lightly  at  first,  then  more 
seriously.  From  the  other  end  of  the  hall  came  the 
occasional  click  of  billiard  balls.  Lady  Caroom  and 
her  host  were  playing  a  leisurely  game  interspersed 
with  conversation. 

"Who  is  this  young  Mr.  Brooks?"  she  asked, 
pausing  to  chalk  her  cue. 

"A  solicitor  from  Medchester,"  he  answered.  "He 
was  Parliamentary  agent  for  Henslow,  and  I  am 
going  to  give  him  a  management  of  my  estates." 


90  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  He  is  quite  a  boy,"  she  remarked. 

"  Twenty-six  or  seven,"  he  answered.  "  How  well 
you  play  those  cannons." 

"  I  ought  to.  I  had  lessons  for  years.  Is  he  a 
native  of  Medchester  ?  " 

Lord  Arranmore  was  blandly  puzzled.  She  fin- 
ished her  stroke  and  turned  towards  him. 

"  Mr.  Brooks,  you  know.  We  were  talking  of 
him." 

"  Of  course  we  were,"  he  answered.  "  I  do  not 
think  so.  He  is  an  orphan.  I  met  his  father  in 
Canada." 

"  He  reminds  me  of  some  one,"  she  remarked,  in  a 
puzzled  tone.  "  Just  now  as  I  was  coming  down- 
stairs it  was  almost  startling.  He  is  a  good-looking 
boy." 

"  Be  careful  not  to  foul,"  he  admonished  her. 
"  You  should  have  the  spider-rest." 

Lady  Caroom  made  a  delicate  cannon  from  an  awk- 
ward place,  and  concluded  her  break  in  silence.  Then 
she  leaned  with  her  back  against  the  table,  chalking 
her  cue.  Her  figure  was  still  the  figure  of  a  girl  — 
she  was  a  remarkably  pretty  woman.  She  laid  her 
slim  white  fingers  upon  his  coat-sleeve. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said,  softly,  "  whether  you  will 
ever  tell  me." 

"  If  you  look  at  me  like  that,"  he  answered,  smil- 
ing, "  I  shall  tell  you  —  a  great  many  things." 

Her  eyes  fell.  It  was  too  absurd  at  her  age,  but  her 
cheeks  were  burning. 

"  You  don't  improve  a  bit,"  she  declared.  "  You 
were  always  too  apt  with  your  tongue." 

"  I  practised  in  a  good  school,"  he  answered. 


WHO   THE   DEVIL   IS   BROOKS?         91 

"  Dear  me,"  she  sighed.  "  For  elderly  people  what 
a  lot  of  rubbish  we  talk." 

He  shivered. 

"  What  a  hideous  word,"  he  remarked.  "  You 
make  me  feel  that  my  chest  is  padded  and  my  hair 
dyed.  If  to  talk  sense  is  a  sign  of  youth,  let  us 
do  it." 

"  By  all  means.  When  are  you  going  to  find  me  a 
husband  for  Sybil  ?  " 

"  Well  —  is  there  any  hurry?  "  he  asked. 

"  Lots !  We  are  going  to  Fernshire  next  week,  and 
the  place  is  always  full  of  young  men.  If  you  have 
anything  really  good  in  your  mind  I  don't  want  to 
miss  it." 

He  took  up  his  cue  and  scored  an  excellent  break. 
She  followed  suit,  and  he  broke  down  at  an  easy 
cannon.  Then  he  came  over  to  her  side. 

"  How  do  you  like  Mr.  Brooks?  "  he  asked,  quietly. 

"  He  seems  a  nice  boy,"  she  answered,  lightly. 

He  remained  silent.  Suddenly  she  looked  up  into 
his  face,  and  clutched  the  sides  of  the  table. 

"  You  —  you  don't  mean  that  ?  "  she  murmured, 
suddenly  pale  to  the  lips. 

He  led  her  to  a  chair.    The  game  was  over. 

"  Some  day,"  he  whispered,  "  I  will  tell  you  the 
whole  story." 

"  Even  to  think  of  these  things,"  Sybil  said,  softly, 
"  makes  us  feel  very  selfish." 

"  No  one  is  ever  hopelessly  selfish  who  is  conscious 
of  it,"  he  answered,  smiling.  "  And,  after  all,  it 
would  not  do  for  every  one  to  be  always  brooding 
upon  the  darker  side  of  life." 


92 

"  In  another  minute,"  Molyneux  exclaimed,  wak- 
ing up  with  a  start,  "  I  should  have  been  asleep. 
Whatever  have  you  two  been  talking  about  ?  It  was 
the  most  soothing  hum  I  ever  heard  in  my  life." 

"  Mr.  Brooks  was  telling  me  of  some  new  phases 
of  life,"  she  answered.  "  It  is  very  interesting,  even 
if  it  is  a  little  sad." 

Molyneux  eyed  them  both  for  a  moment  in  thought- 
ful silence. 

"  H'm !  "  he  remarked.  "  Dinner  is  the  next  phase 
of  life  which  will  interest  me.  Has  the  dressing-bell 
gone  yet?" 

"  You  gross  person,"  she  exclaimed.  "  You  ate 
so  much  tea  you  had  to  go  to  sleep." 

"  It  was  the  exercise,"  he  insisted. 

"  You  have  been  standing  about  all  day.  I  heard 
you  ask  for  a  place  without  any  walking,  and  where 
as  few  people  as  possible  could  see  you  miss  your 
birds." 

"  Your  ears  are  a  great  deal  too  sharp,"  he  said. 
"  It  was  the  wind,  then." 

"  Never  mind  what  it  was,"  she  answered,  laugh- 
ing. "  You  can  go  to  sleep  again  if  you  like." 

Molyneux  put  up  his  eyeglass  and  looked  from  one 
to  the  other.  He  saw  that  Sybil's  interest  in  her 
companion's  conversation  was  not  assumed,  and  for 
the  first  time  he  appreciated  Brooks'  good  looks.  He 
shook  off  his  sleepiness  at  once  and  stood  by  Sybil's 
side. 

"  Have  you  been  trying  to  convert  Lady  Sybil  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  It  is  unnecessary,"  she  answered,  quickly.  "  Mr. 
Brooks  and  I  are  on  the  same  side." 


WHO   THE   DEVIL   IS   BROOKS?         95 

He  laughed  softly  and  strolled  away.  Lord  Arran- 
more  was  standing  thoughtfully  before  the  marking- 
board.  He  laid  his  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  I  say,  Arranmore,"  he  asked,  "  who  the  devil  i& 
Brooks?" 


CHAPTER   XII 

MR.    BULLSOM    GIVES   A   DINNER-PARTY 

OD  bless  my  soul !  "  Mr.  Bullsom  exclaimed. 
"  Listen  to  this." 

Mrs.  Bullsom,  in  a  resplendent  new  dress,  looking 
shinier  and  fatter  than  ever,  was  prepared  to  listen 
to  anything  which  might  relieve  the  tension  of  the 
moment.  For  it  was  the  evening  of  the  dinner-party, 
and  within  ten  minutes  of  the  appointed  time.  Mr. 
Bullsom  stood  under  the  incandescent  light  and  read 
aloud  — 

"  The  shooting-party  at  Enton  yesterday  consisted 
of  the  Marquis  of  Arranmore,  the  Hon.  Sydney  Moly- 
neux,  Mr.  Hennibul,  K.C.,  and  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks. 
Notwithstanding  the  high  wind  an  excellent  bag  was 
obtained." 

"What!  Our  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks?"  Selina 
exclaimed. 

"  It 's  Brooks,  right  enough,"  Mr.  Bullsom  ex- 
claimed. "  I  called  at  his  office  yesterday,  and  they 
told  me  that  he  was  out  for  the  day.  Well,  that 
licks  me." 

Mary,  who  was  reading  a  magazine  in  a  secluded 
corner,  looked  up. 

"  I  saw  Mr.  Brooks  in  the  morning,"  she  remarked. 
"  He  told  me  that  he  was  going  to  Enton  to  dine  and 
sleep." 


MR.  BULLSOM  GIVES  A  DINNER-PARTY    95 

Selina  looked  at  her  cousin  sharply. 

"You  saw  Mr.  Brooks ?"  she  repeated.    "Where ?" 

"  I  met  him,"  Mary  answered,  coolly.  "  He  told 
me  that  Lord  Arranmore  had  been  very  kind  to 
him." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  us?  "  Louise  asked. 

"  I  really  did  n't  think  of  it,"  Mary  answered.  "  It 
did  n't  strike  me  as  being  anything  extraordinary." 

"  Not  when  he  's  coming  here  to  dine  to-night; ' 
Selina  repeated,  "  and  is  a  friend  of  papa's !  Why, 
Mary,  what  nonsense." 

"  I  really  don't  see  anything  to  make  a  fuss  about," 
Mary  said,  going  back  to  her  magazine. 

Mr.  Bullsom  drew  himself  up,  and  laid  down  the 
paper  with  the  paragraph  uppermost. 

"  Well,  it  is  most  gratifying  to  think  that  I  gave 
that  young  man  his  first  start,"  he  remarked.  "  I 
believe,  too,  that  he  is  not  likely  to  forget  it." 

"  The  bell !  "  Mrs.  Bullsom  exclaimed,  with  a  little 
gasp.  "  Some  one  has  come." 

"  Well,  if  they  have,  there  's  nothing  to  be  fright- 
ened about,"  Mr.  Bullsom  retorted.  "  Ain't  we  ex- 
pecting them  to  come  ?  Don't  look  so  scared,  Sarah ! 
Take  up  a  book,  or  something.  Why,  bless  my  soul, 
you  're  all  of  a  tremble." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Peter,"  Mrs.  Bullsom  replied, 
nervously.  "  I  don't  know  these  people  scarcely  a  bit, 
and  I  'm  sure  I  shall  do  something  foolish.  Selina, 
be  sure  you  look  at  me  when  I  'm  to  come  away, 
and " 

"Mr.  Kingston  Brooks." 

Brooks,  ushered  in  by  a  neighbouring  greengrocer, 
Centered  upon  a  scene  of  unexpected  splendour.    Selina 


96  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

and  her  sister  were  gorgeous  in  green  and  pink  re- 
spectively. Mr.  Bullsom's  shirt-front  was  a  thing  to 
wonder  at.  There  was  an  air  of  repressed  excitement 
about  everybody,  except  Mary,  who  welcomed  -him 
with  a  quiet  smile. 

"  I    am    not   much   too   early,    I    hope,"    Brooks 
remarked. 

"  You  're  in  the  nick  of  time,"  Mr.  Bullsom  assured 
him. 

Brooks  endeavoured  to  secure  a  chair  near  Mary, 
which  attempt  Selina  adroitly  foiled. 

"  We  've  been  reading  all  about  your  grandeur, 
Mr.  Brooks,"  she  exclaimed.    "  What  a  beautiful  day 
you  must  have  had  at  Enton." 
Brooks  looked  puzzled. 

"  It  was  very  enjoyable,"  he  declared.    "  I  wanted 
to  see  you,  Miss  Scott,"  he  added,  turning  to  Mary. 
"  I  think  that  we  can  arrange  that  date  for  the  lec- 
ture now.     How  would  Wednesday  week  do  ?  " 
"  Admirably !  "  Mary  answered. 
"  Do  you  know  whom  you  take  in,  Mr.  Brooks?  " 
Selina  interrupted. 

Brooks  glanced  at  the  card  in  his  hand. 
"  Mrs.  Seventon,"  he  said.     "  Yes,  thanks." 
Selina  looked  up  at  him  with  an  arch  smile. 
"  Mrs.  Seventon  is  most  dreadfully  proper,"  she 
said.    u  You  will  have  to  be  on  your  best  behaviour. 
Oh,  here  comes  some  one.    What  a  bother !  " 

There  was  an  influx  of  guests.  Mrs.  Bullsom,  re- 
duced to  a  state  of  chaotic  nervousness,  was  pushed 
as  far  into  the  background  as  possible  by  her  daugh- 
ters, and  Mr.  Bullsom,  banished  from  the  hearth 
where  he  felt  surest  of  himself,  plunged  into  a  con- 


MR.  BULLSOM  GIVES  A  DINNER-PARTY    97 

versation  with  Mr.  Seventon  on  the  weather.  Brooks 
leaned  over  towards  Mary. 

"  Wednesday  week  at  eight  o'clock,  then,"  he  said. 
"  I  want  to  have  a  chat  with  you  about  the  subject.'' 

"  Not  now,"  she  interposed.  "  You  know  these 
people,  don't  you,  and  the  Huntingdons?  Go  and 
talk  to  them,  please." 

Brooks  laughed,  and  went  to  the  rescue.  He  won 
Mrs.  Bullsom's  eternal  gratitude  by  diverting  Mrs. 
Seventon' s  attention  from  her,  and  thereby  allowing^ 
her  a  moment  or  two  to  recover  herself.  Somehow  or 
other  a  buzz  of  conversation  was  kept  up  until  the 
solemn  announcement  of  dinner.  And  when  she  was 
finally  seated  in  her  place,  and  saw  a  couple  of  nimble 
waiters,  with  the  greengrocer  in  the  back,  looking  cool 
and  capable,  she  felt  that  the  worst  was  over. 

The  solemn  process  of  sampling  doubtful-looking 
entrees  and  eating  saddle  of  mutton  to  the  tune  of  a 
forced  conversation  was  got  through  without  disaster. 
Mrs.  Bullsom  felt  her  fat  face  break  out  into  smiles. 
Mr.  Bullsom,  though  he  would  like  to  have  seen  every- 
body go  twice  for  everything,  began  to  expand.  He 
had  already  recited  the  story  of  Kingston  Brooks' 
greatness  to  both  of  his  immediate  neighbours,  and  in 
a  casual  way  mentioned  his  early  patronage  of  that 
remarkable  young  man.  And  once  meeting  his  eye 
he  raised  his  glass. 

"  Not  quite  up  to  the  Enton  vintage,  Brooks,  eh  ? 
but  all  right,  I  hope." 

Brooks  nodded  back,  and  resumed  his  conversation.. 
Selina  took  the  opportunity  to  mention  casually  to 
her  neighbour,  Mr.  Huntingdon,  that  Mr.  Brooks  was 
a  great  friend  of  Lord  Arranmore's,  and  Louise,  on 

7 


98  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

her  side  of  the  table,  took  care  also  to  disseminate 
the  same  information.  Everybody  was  properly  im- 
pressed. Mr.  Bullsom  decided  to  give  a  dinner-party 
every  month,  and  to  double  the  greengrocer's  tip,  and 
by  the  time  Selina's  third  stage  whisper  had  reached 
her  mother  and  the  ladies  finally  departed,  he  was 
in  a  state  of  geniality  bordering  upon  beatitude. 
There  was  a  general  move  to  his  end  of  the  table. 
Mr.  Bullsom  started  the  port,  and  his  shirt-front  grew 
wider  and  wider.  He  lit  a  cigar,  and  his  thumb  found 
its  way  to  the  armhole  of  his  waistcoat.  At  that 
moment  Mr.  Bullsom  would  not  have  changed  places 
with  any  man  on  earth. 

"  What  sort  of  a  place  is  Enton  to  stay  at,  Brooks, 
eh?"  he  inquired,  in  a  friendly  manner.  "Keeps 
it  up  very  well,  don't  he,  the  present  Marquis  ?  " 

Brooks  sighed. 

"  I  really  don't  know  much  about  it,"  he  answered, 
"  I  was  only  there  one  night." 

"Good  day's  sport?" 

"  Very  good  indeed,"  Brooks  answered.  "  Lord 
Arranmore  is  a  wonderful  shot." 

"  A  remarkable  man  in  a  great  many  ways,  Lord 
Arranmore,"  Dr.  Seventon  remarked.  "  He  disap- 
peared from  London  when  he  was  an  impecunious 
young  barrister  with  apparently  no  earthly  chance  of 
succeeding  to  the  Arranmore  estates,  and  from  that 
time  till  a  few  years  ago,  when  he  was  advertised  for, 
not  a  soul  knew  his  whereabouts.  Even  now  I  am 
told  that  he  keeps  the  story  of  all  these  years  abso- 
lutely to  himself.  No  one  knew  where  he  was,  or  how 
he  supported  himself." 

"  I  can  tell  you  where  he  was  for  some  time,  at  any 


MR.  BULLSOM  GIVES  A  DINNER-PARTY    99 

rate,"  Brooks  said.    "  He  was  in  Canada,  for  he  met 
my  father  there,  and  was  with  him  when  he  died." 

"  Indeed,"  Dr.  Seventon  remarked.  "  Then  I 
should  say  that  you  are  one  of  the  only  men  in  Eng- 
land to  whom  he  has  opened  his  lips  on  the  subject. 
Do  you  know  what  he  was  doing  there  ?  " 

"  Fishing  and  shooting,  I  think,"  Brooks  answered. 
"  It  was  near  Lake  Ono,  right  out  west,  and  there 
would  be  nothing  else  to  take  one  there." 

"  It  was  always  supposed  too  that  he  had  spent 
most  of  the  time  in  a  situation  in  New  York,"  Mr. 
Huntingdon  said. 

"  I  know  a  man,"  Mr.  Seaton  put  in,  "  who  can 
swear  that  he  met  him  as  a  sergeant  in  the  first 
Australian  contingent  of  mounted  infantry  sent  to 
the  Cape." 

"  There  are  no  end  of  stories  about  him,"  Dr.  Sev- 
enton remarked.  "  If  I  were  the  man  I  would  put 
a  stop  to  them  by  telling  everybody  exactly  where  I 
was  during  those  twenty  years  or  so.  It  is  a  big  slice 
of  one's  life  to  seal  up." 

"  Still,  there  is  not  the  slightest  reason  why  he 
should  take  the  whole  world  into  his  confidence,  is 
there?"  Brooks  expostulated.  "He  is  not  a  public 
man." 

"  A  peer  of  England  with  a  seat  in  the  House  of 
Lords  must  always  be  a  public  man  to  some  extent," 
Mr.  Huntingdon  remarked. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  Brooks  remarked,  "  that  the  lives 
of  all  our  hereditary  legislators  would  bear  the  most 
searching  inquiry." 

"That's  right,  Brooks,"  Mr.  Bullsom  declared. 
"  Stick  up  for  your  pals." 


ioo  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Brooks  looked  a  little  annoyed. 

"  The  only  claim  I  have  upon  Lord  Arranmore's 
acquaintance,"  he  remarked,  "  is  his  kindness  to  my 
father.  I  hope,  Dr.  Seventon,  that  you  are  going  to 
press  the  matter  of  that  fever  hospital  home.  I  have 
a  little  information  which  I  think  you  might  make 
use  of." 

Brooks  changed  his  place,  wine-glass  in  hand,  and 
the  conversation  drifted  away.  But  he  found  the 
position  of  social  star  one  which  the  Bullsoms  were 
determined  to  force  upon  him,  for  they  had  no  sooner 
entered  the  drawing-room  than  Selina  came  rushing 
across  the  room  to  him  and  drew  him  confidentially 
on  one  side. 

"  Mr.  Brooks,"  she  said,  "  do  go  and  talk  to  Mrs. 
Huntingdon.  She  is  so  anxious  to  hear  about  the 
Lady  Caroom  who  is  staying  at  Enton." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  Lady  Caroom,"  Brooks 
replied,  without  any  overplus  of  graciousness. 

Selina  looked  at  him  in  some  dismay. 

"But  you  met  her  at  Enton,  didn't  you?"  she 
asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  met  her  there,"  Brooks  answered,  im- 
patiently. "  But  I  certainly  don't  know  enough  of 
her  to  discuss  her  with  Mrs.  Huntingdon.  I  rather 
wanted  to  speak  to  your  cousin." 

Selinas  thin  little  lips  became  compressed,  and  for 
a  moment  she  forgot  to  smile.  Her  cousin  indeed! 
Mary,  who  was  sitting  there  in  a  plain  black  gown 
without  a  single  ornament,  and  not  even  a  flower, 
looking  for  all  the  world  like  the  poor  relation  she 
was!  Selina  glanced  downwards  at  the  great  bunch 
of  roses  and  maidenhair  fern  in  her  bosom,  at  the 


MR.  BULLSOM  GIVES  A  DINNER-PARTY    101 

fancy  and  beaded  trimming  which  ran  like  a  night- 
mare all  over  her  new  gown,  and  which  she  was 
absolutely  certain  had  come  from  Paris ;  at  the  heavy 
gold  bracelets  which  concealed  some  part  of  her  thin 
arms;  she  remembered  suddenly  the  aigrette  in  her 
hair,  such  a  finish  to  her  costume,  and  her  self-con- 
fidence returned. 

"  Oh,  don't  bother  about  Mary  now.  Mrs.  Hunt- 
ingdon is  dying  to  have  you  talk  to  her.  Please  do  — 
and  if  you  like  —  I  will  give  you  one  of  my  roses 
for  your  button-hole." 

Brooks  stood  the  shock  gallantly,  and  bowed  his 
thanks.  He  had  met  Mrs.  Huntingdon  before,  and 
they  talked  together  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  so. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  why  you  were  here,"  was  almost 
her  first  question.  "  Is  n't  it  all  funny?  " 

"  Mr.  Bullsom  has  always  been  very  decent  to  me," 
he  answered.  "  It  is  through  him  I  was  appointed 
agent  to  Mr.  Henslow." 

"  Oh,  business !  I  see,"  she  answered,  shrugging 
her  shoulders.  "  Same  here.  I  'm  a  doctor's  wife, 
you  know.  Did  you  ever  see  such  awful  girls!  and 
who  in  the  name  of  all  that 's  marvellous  can  be  their 
dressmaker?  " 

"  Bullsom  is  a  very  good  sort  indeed,"  Brooks 
answered.  "  I  have  a  great  respect  for  him." 

She  made  a  little  face. 

"  Who  's  the  nice-looking  girl  in  black  with  her 
hair  parted  in  the  middle?  "  she  asked. 

"  Mr.  Bullsom' s  niece.  She  is  quite  charming,  and 
most  intelligent." 

"Dear  me!"  Mrs.  Huntingdon  remarked.  "I 
had  no  idea  she  had  anything  to  do  with  the  family. 


102  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Sort  of  a  Cinderella  look  about  her  now  you  mention 
it.  Could  n't  you  get  her  to  come  over  and  talk  to 
me  ?  I  'm  horribly  afraid  of  Mrs.  Bullsom.  She  '11 
come  out  of  that  dress  if  she  tries  to  talk,  and  I  know 
I  shall  laugh." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  can,"  Brooks  answered,  rising  with 
alacrity.  "  I  '11  bring  her  over  in  a  minute." 

Mary  had  just  finished  arranging  a  card-table  when 
Brooks  drew  her  on  one  side. 

"About  that  subject!"  he  began. 

"  We  shall  scarcely  have  time  to  talk  about  it  now, 
shall  we?"  she  answered.  "You  will  be  wanted  to 
play  cards  or  something.  We  shall  be  quite  content 
to  leave  it  to  you." 

"  I  should  like  to  talk  it  over  with  you,"  he  said. 
"  Do  tell  me  when  I  may  see  you." 

She  sat  down,  and  he  stood  by  her  chair. 

"  Really,  I  don't  know,"  she  answered.  "  Per- 
haps I  shall  be  at  home  when  you  pay  your  duty 
call." 

"  Come  and  have  some  tea  at  Mellor's  with  me 
to-morrow." 

She  seemed  not  to  hear  him.  She  had  caught 
Mrs.  Seventon's  eye  across  the  room,  and  rose  to  her 
feet. 

"  You  have  left  Mrs.  Seventon  alone  all  the  even- 
ing," she  said.  "  I  must  go  and  talk  to  her." 

He  stood  before  her  —  a  little  insistent. 

"  I  shall  expect  you  at  half-past  four,"  he  said. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Oh,  no.    I  have  an  engagement." 

"  The  next  day,  then." 

"  Thank  you !    I  would  rather  you  did  not  ask  me. 


MR.  BULLSOM  GIVES  A  DINNER-PARTY    103 

I  have  a  great  deal  to  do  just  now.  I  will  bring  the 
girls  to  the  lecture." 

"  Wednesday  week,"  he  protested,  "  is  a  long  way 
off." 

"  You  can  go  over  to  Enton,"  she  laughed, 
"  and  get  some  more  cheques  from  your  wonderful 
friend." 

"  I  wonder,"  he  remarked,  "  why  you  dislike  Lord 
Arranmore  so  much." 

"  Instinct  perhaps  —  or  caprice,"  she  answered, 
lightly. 

"  The  latter  for  choice,"  he  answered.  "  I  don't 
think  that  he  is  a  man  to  dislike  instinctively.  He 
rather  affected  me  the  other  way." 

She  was  suddenly  graver. 

"  It  is  foolish  of  me,"  she  remarked.  "  You  will 
think  so  too,  when  I  tell  you  that  my  only  reason  is 
because  of  a  likeness." 

"  A  likeness !  "  he  repeated. 

She  nodded. 

"  He  is  exactly  like  a  man  who  was  once  a  friend 
of  my  father's,  and  who  did  him  a  great  deal  of  harm. 
My  father  was  much  to  blame,  I  know,  but  this 
man  had  a  great  influence  over  him,  and  a  most 
unfortunate  one.  Now  don't  you  think  I  'm 
absurd?" 

"  I  think  it  is  a  little  rough  on  Lord  Arranmore," 
he  answered,  "  don't  you?  " 

"  It  would  be  if  my  likes  or  dislikes  made  the  slight- 
est difference  to  him,"  she  answered.  "  As  it  is,  I 
don't  suppose  it  matters." 

"Was  this  in  England?"  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head. 


104  'A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  No,  it  was  abroad  —  in  Montreal.  I  really  must 
go  to  Mrs.  Seventon.  She  looks  terribly  bored." 

Brooks  made  no  effort  to  detain  her.  He  was 
looking  intently  at  a  certain  spot  in  the  carpet.  The 
coincidence  —  it  was  nothing  more,  of  course  —  was 
curious. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

CHARITY   THE   "  CRIME  " 

THERE  followed  a  busy  time  for  Brooks,  the 
result  of  which  was  a  very  marked  improve- 
ment in  his  prospects.  For  the  younger  Morrison  and 
his  partner,  loth  to  lose  altogether  the  valuable  Enton 
connection,  offered  Brooks  a  partnership  in  their  firm. 
Mr.  Ascough,  who  was  Lord  Arranmore's  London 
solicitor,  and  had  been  Brooks'  guardian,  after  careful 
consideration  advised  his  acceptance,  and  there  being 
nothing  in  the  way,  the  arrangements  were  pushed 
through  almost  at  once.  Mr.  Ascough,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  his  return  to  London,  took  the  opportunity 
warmly  to  congratulate  Brooks. 

"  Lord  Arranmore  has  been  marvellously  kind  to 
me,"  Brooks  agreed.  "  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Mr. 
Ascough,  I  feel  almost  inclined  to  add  incomprehen- 
sibly kind." 

The  older  man  stroked  his  grey  moustache 
thoughtfully. 

"  Lord  Arranmore  is  eccentric,"  he  remarked. 
"  Has  always  been  eccentric,  and  will  remain  so,  I 
suppose,  to  the  end  of  the  chapter.  You  are  the  one 
who  profits,  however,  and  I  am  very  glad  of  it." 

"  Eccentricity,"  Brooks  remarked,  "  is,  of  course, 
the  only  obvious  explanation  of  his  generosity  so  far 


106  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

as  I  am  concerned.  But  it  has  occurred  to  me,  Mr. 
Ascough,  to  wonder  whether  the  friendship  or  con- 
nection between  him  and  my  father  was  in  any  way  a 
less  slight  thing  than  I  have  been  led  to  suppose." 

Mr.  Ascough  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Lord  Arranmore,"  he  said,  "  has  told  you,  no 
doubt,  all  that  there  is  to  be  told." 

Brooks  sat  at  his  desk,  frowning  slightly,  and 
tapping  the  blotting-paper  with  a  pen-holder. 

"  All  that  Lord  Arranmore  has  told  me,"  he  said, 
"  is  that  my  father  occupied  a  cabin  not  far  from  his 
on  the  banks  of  Lake  Ono,  that  they  saw  little  of  each 
other,  and  that  he  only  found  out  his  illness  by  acci- 
dent. That  my  father  then  disclosed  his  name,  gave 
him  his  papers  and  your  address.  There  was  merely 
the  casual  intercourse  between  two  Englishmen  com- 
ing together  in  a  strange  country." 

"  That  is  what  I  have  always  understood,"  Mr. 
Ascough  agreed.  "  Have  you  any  reason  to  think 
otherwise  ?  " 

"  No  definite  reason  —  except  Lord  Arranmore's 
unusual  kindness  to  me,"  Brooks  remarked.  "  Lord 
Arranmore  is  one  of  the  most  self-centred  men  I  ever 
knew  —  and  the  least  impulsive.  Why,  therefore,  he 
should  go  out  of  his  way  to  do  me  a  kindness  I  cannot 
understand." 

"  If  this  is  really  an  enigma  to  you,"  Mr.  Ascough 
answered,  "  I  cannot  help  you  to  solve  it.  Lord 
Arranmore  has  been  the  reverse  of  communicative  to 
me.  I  am  afraid  you  must  fall  back  upon  his  lord- 
ship's eccentricity." 

Mr.  Ascough  rose,  but  Brooks  detained  him. 

"  .You  have  plenty  of  time  for  your  train,"  he  said. 


CHARITY   THE   "CRIME"  107 

"  Will  you  forgive  me  if  I  go  over  a  little  old  ground 
with  you  —  for  the  last  time?" 

The  lawyer  resumed  his  seat. 

"  I  am  in  no  hurry,"  he  said,  "  if  you  think  it 
worth  while." 

"  My  father  came  to  you  when  he  was  living  at 
Stepney  —  a  stranger  to  you." 

"  A  complete  stranger,"  Mr.  Ascough  agreed.  "  I 
had  never  seen  him  before  in  my  life.  I  did  a  little 
trifling  business  for  him  in  connection  with  his 
property." 

"  He  told  you  nothing  of  his  family  or  relatives?  " 

"  He  told  me  that  he  had  not  a  relation  in  the 
world." 

"You  knew  him  slightly,  then?"  Brooks  con- 
tinued, "  all  the  time  he  was  in  London  ?  And  when 
he  left  for  that  voyage  he  came  to  you." 

"  Yes." 

"He  made  over  his  small  income  then  to  my  mother 
in  trust  for  me.  Did  it  strike  you  as  strange  that 
he  should  do  this  instead  of  making  a  will?" 

"  Not  particularly,"  Mr.  Ascough  declared.  "  As 
you  know,  it  is  not  an  unusual  course." 

"  It  did  not  suggest  to  you  any  determination  on 
his  part  never  to  return  to  England  ?  " 

"Certainly  not." 

"  He  left  England  on  friendly  terms  with  my 
mother?" 

"  Certainly.  She  and  he  were  people  for  whom  I 
and  every  one  who  knew  anything  of  their  lives  had 
the  highest  esteem  and  admiration." 

"  You  can  imagine  no  reason,  then,  for  my  father 
leaving  England  for  good  ?  " 


io8  A   PRINCE   OF.   SINNERS 

"Certainly  not!" 

"  You  know  of  no  reason  why  he  should  have  aban- 
doned his  trip  to  Australia  and  gone  to  Canada  ?  " 

"None!" 

"  His  doing  so  is  as  inexplicable  to  you  as  to 
me?" 

"  Entirely." 

"  You  have  never  doubted  Lord  Arranmore's  story 
of  his  death?" 

"Never.    Why  should  I?" 

"  One  more  question,"  Brooks  said.  "  Do  you 
know  that  lately  I  have  met  a  traveller  —  a  man 
who  visited  Lord  Arranmore  in  Canada,  and  who 
declared  to  his  certain  knowledge  there  was  no  other 
human  dwelling-house  within  fifty  miles  of  Lord 
Arranmore's  cabin  ?  " 

"  He  was  obviously  mistaken." 

"You  think  so?" 

"  It  is  certain." 

Brooks  hesitated. 

"  My  question,"  he  said,  "  will  have  given  you 
some  idea  of  the  uncertainty  I  have  felt  once  or 
twice  lately,  owing  to  the  report  of  the  traveller 
Lacroix,  and  Lord  Arranmore's  unaccountable  kind- 
ness to  me.  You  see,  he  is  n't  an  ordinary  man.  He 
is  not  a  philanthropist  by  any  means,  nor  in  any  way 
a  person  likely  to  do  kindly  actions  from  the  love  of 
them.  Now,  do  you  know  of  any  facts,  or  can  you 
suggest  anything  which  might  make  the  situation 
clearer  to  me?  " 

"  I  cannot,  Mr.  Brooks,"  the  older  man  answered, 
without  hesitation.  "  If  you  take  my  advice,  you  will 
not  trouble  yourself  any  more  with  fancies  which  seem 


CHARITY   THE   "CRIME"  109 

to  me — pardon  me — quite  chimerical.  Accept  Lord 
Arranmore's  kindness  as  the  offshoot  of  some  senti- 
mental feeling  which  he  might  well  have  entertained 
towards  a  fellow-countryman  by  whose  death-bed  he 
had  stood  in  that  far-away,  lonely  country.  You  may 
even  yourself  be  mistaken  in  Lord  Arranmore's  char- 
acter, and  you  can  remember,  too,  that  after  all  what 
means  so  much  to  you  costs  him  nothing  —  is  prob- 
ably for  his  own  advantage/' 

Brooks  rose  and  took  up  his  hat. 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Ascough," 
he  said.  "  Yours,  after  all,  is  the  common-sense 
view  of  the  affair.  If  you  like  I  will  walk  up  to 
the  station.  I  am  going  that  way.  .  .  ." 

So  Brooks,  convinced  of  their  folly,  finally  dis- 
carded certain  uncomfortable  thoughts  which  once  or 
twice  lately  had  troubled  him.  He  dined  at  Enton 
that  night,  and  improved  his  acquaintance  with  Lady 
Caroom  and  her  daughter,  who  were  still  staying 
there.  Although  this  was  not  a  matter  which  he 
had  mentioned  to  Mr.  Ascough,  there  was  some- 
thing which  he  found  more  inexplicable  even  than 
Lord  Arranmore's  transference  of  the  care  of  his 
estates  to  him,  and  that  was  the  apparent  encourage- 
ment which  both  he  and  Lady  Caroom  gave  to  the 
friendship  between  Sybil  and  himself.  They  had 
lunched  with  him  twice  in  Medchester,  and  more 
often  still  the  Enton  barouche  had  been  kept  wait- 
ing at  his  office  whilst  Lady  Caroom  and  Sybil 
descended  upon  him  with  invitations  from  Lord 
Arranmore.  After  his  talk  with  Mr.  Ascough  he 
put  the  matter  behind  him,  but  it  remained  at  times 
an  inexplicable  puzzle. 


I  io  A   PRINCE  OF   SINNERS 

On  the  evening  of  this  particular  visit  he  found 
Sybil  alone  in  a  recess  of  the  drawing-room  with  a 
newspaper  in  her  hand.  She  greeted  him  with  ob- 
vious pleasure. 

"  Do  come  and  tell  me  about  things,  Mr.  Brooks," 
she  begged.  "  I  have  been  reading  the  local  paper. 
Is  it  true  that  there  are  actually  people  starving  in 
Medchester  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  great  deal  of  distress,"  he  admitted, 
gravely.  "  I  am  afraid  that  it  is  true." 

She  looked  at  him  with  wide-open  eyes. 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  she  said.  "  I  thought 
that  there  were  societies  who  dealt  with  all  that  sort 
of  thing,  and  behind,  the  —  the  workhouse." 

"  So  there  are,  Lady  Sybil,"  he  answered,  "  but 
you  must  remember  that  societies  are  no  use  unless 
people  will  subscribe  to  them,  and  that  there  are  a 
great  many  people  who  would  sooner  starve  than 
enter  the  workhouse." 

"  But  surely,"  she  exclaimed,  "  there  is  no  difficulty 
about  getting  money  —  if  people  only  understand." 

He  watched  her  for  a  moment  in  silence  —  sud- 
denly appreciating  the  refinement,  the  costly  elegance 
which  seemed  in  itself  to  be  a  part  of  the  girl,  and 
yet  for  which  surely  her  toilette  was  in  some  way 
also  responsible.  Her  white  satin  dress  was  cut  and 
fashioned  in  a  style  which  he  was  beginning  to  ap- 
preciate as  evidence  of  skill  and  costliness.  A  string 
of  pearls  around  her  throat  gleamed  softly  in  the 
firelight.  A  chain  of  fine  gold  studded  with  opals 
and  diamonds  reached  almost  to  her  knees.  She 
wore  few  rings  indeed,  but  they  were  such  rings  as 
he  had  never  seen  before  he  had  come  as  a  guest 


CHARITY   THE   "CRIME"  ill 

to  Enton.  And  there  were  thousands  like  her.  A 
momentary  flash  of  thought  carried  him  back  to  the 
days  of  the  French  Revolution.  There  was  a  print 
hanging  in  his  room  of  a  girl  as  fair  and  as  proud 
as  this  one,  surrounded  by  a  fierce  rabble  mad  with 
hunger  and  the  pent-up  rage  of  generations,  tearing 
the  jewels  from  her  ringers,  tearing  even,  he  thought, 
the  trimming  from  her  gown. 

"  You  do  not  answer  me,  Mr.  Brooks,"  she  re- 
minded him. 

He  recovered  himself  with  a  start. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lady  Sybil.  Your  question 
set  me  thinking.  We  have  tried  to  make  people 
understand,  and  many  have  given  most  generously, 
but  for  all  that  we  cannot  cope  with  such  distress  as 
there  is  to-day  in  Medchester.  I  am  secretary  for 
one  of  the  distribution  societies,  and  I  have  seen 
things  which  are  enough  to  sadden  a  man  for  life, 
only  during  the  last  few  days." 

"You  have  seen  people  —  really  hungry?"  she 
asked,  with  something  like  timidity  in  her  face. 

He  laughed  bitterly. 

"  That  we  see  every  moment  of  the  time  we  spend 
down  amongst  them,"  he  answered.  "  I  have  seen 
worse  things.  I  have  seen  the  sapping  away  of  char- 
acter—  men  become  thieves  and  women  worse  —  to 
escape  from  starvation.  That,  I  think,  is  the  greatest 
tragedy  of  all.  It  makes  one  shudder  when  one  thinks 
that  on  the  shoulders  of  many  people  some  portion 
of  the  responsibility  at  any  rate  for  these  things  must 
rest." 

Her  lips  quivered.  She  emptied  the  contents  of  a 
gold  chain  purse  into  her  hands. 


H2  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  It  is  we  who  are  wicked,  Mr.  Brooks,"  she  said, 
"  who  spend  no  end  of  money  and  close  our  ears  to 
all  this.  Do  take  this,  will  you;  can  it  go  to  some 
of  the  women  you  know,  and  the  children?  There 
are  only  five  or  six  pounds  there,  but  I  shall  talk  to 
mamma.  We  will  send  you  a  cheque." 

He  took  the  money  without  hesitation. 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  he  said,  earnestly,  "  that  you 
have  given  me  this,  that  you  have  felt  that  you 
wanted  to  give  it  me.  I  hope  you  won't  think  too 
badly  of  me  for  coming  over  here  to  help  you  spend 
a  pleasant  evening,  and  talking  at  all  of  such  mis- 
erable things." 

"  Badly !  "  she  repeated.  "  No ;  I  shall  never  be 
able  to  thank  you  enough  for  telling  me  what  you 
have  done.  It  makes  one  feel  almost  wicked  to  be 
sitting  here,  and  wearing  jewelry,  and  feeling  well 
off,  spending  money  on  whatever  you  want,  and  to 
think  that  there  are  people  starving.  How  they 
must  hate  us." 

"  It  is  the  wonderful  part  of  it,"  he  answered.  "  I 
do  not  believe  that  they  do.  I  suppose  it  is  a  sort 
of  fatalism  —  the  same  sort  of  thing,  only  much  less 
ignoble,  as  the  indifference  which  keeps  our  rich 
people  contented  and  deaf  to  this  terribly  human 
cry." 

"  You  are  young,"  she  said,  looking  at  him,  "  to 
be  so  much  interested  in  such  serious  things." 

"  It  is  my  blood,  I  suppose,"  he  answered.  "  My 
father  was  a  police-court  missionary,  and  my  mother 
the  matron  of  a  pauper  hospital." 

"They  are  both  dead,  are  they  not?"  she  asked, 
softly. 


CHARITY   THE   "CRIME"  113 

"  Many  years  ago,"  he  answered. 

Lady  Caroom  and  Lord  Arranmore  came  in  to- 
gether. A  certain  unusual  seriousness  in  Sybil's 
face  was  manifest. 

'  You  two  do  not  seem  to  have  been  amusing  your- 
selves," Lady  Caroom  remarked,  giving  her  hand  to 
Brooks. 

"  Mr.  Brooks  has  been  answering  some  of  my 
questions  about  the  poor  people,"  Sybil  answered, 
"  and  it  is  not  an  amusing  subject." 

Lord  Arranmore  laughed  lightly,  and  there  was  a 
touch  of  scorn  in  the  slight  curve  of  his  fine  lips  and 
his  raised  eyebrows.  He  stood  away  from  the  shaded 
lamplight  before  a  great  open  fire  of  cedar  logs,  and 
the  red  glow  falling  fitfully  upon  his  face  seemed  to 
Brooks,  watching  him  with  more  than  usual  close- 
ness, to  give  him  something  of  a  Mephistopheles 
aspect.  His  evening  clothes  hung  with  more  than 
ordinary  precision  about  his  long  slim  body,  his 
black  tie  and  black  pearl  stud  supplied  the  touch  of 
sombreness  so  aptly  in  keeping  with  the  mirthless, 
bitter  smile  which  still  parted  his  lips. 

"  You  must  not  take  Mr.  Brooks  too  seriously  — 
on  the  subject  of  the  poor  people,"  he  said,  the 
mockery  of  his  smile  well  matched  in  his  tone. 
"  Brooks  is  an  enthusiast  —  one,  I  am  afraid,  of 
those  misguided  people  who  have  barred  the  way 
to  progress  for  centuries.  If  only  they  could  be 
converted ! " 

Lady  Caroom  sighed. 

"  Oh,  dear,  how  enigmatic !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Do 
be  a  little  more  explicit." 

"  Dear  lady,"  he  continued,  turning  to  her,  "  it  is 
8 


ii4  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

not  worth  while.  Yet  I  sometimes  wonder  whether 
people  realize  how  much  harm  this  hysterical  philan- 
thropy —  this  purely  sentimental  f addism,  does ;  how 
it  retards  the  natural  advance  of  civilization,  throws 
dust  in  people's  eyes,  salves  the  easy  conscience  of 
the  rich  man,  who  bargains  for  immortality  with  a 
few  strokes  of  the  pen,  and  finds  mischievous  occu- 
pation for  a  good  many  weak  minds  and  parasitical 
females.  Believe  me,  that  all  personal  charity  is  a 
mistake.  It  is  a  good  deal  worse  than  that.  It  is  a 
crime." 

Sybil  rose  up,  and  a  little  unusual  flush  had  stained 
her  cheeks. 

"  I  still  do  not  understand  you  in  the  least,  Lord 
Arranmore,"  she  said.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  you 
are  making  paradoxical  and  ridiculous  statements, 
which  only  bewilder  us.  Why  is  charity  a  crime? 
That  is  what  I  should  like  to  hear  you  explain." 

Lord  Arranmore  bowed  slightly. 

"  I  had  no  idea,"  he  said,  leaning  his  elbow  upon 
the  mantelpiece,  "  that  I  was  going  to  be  inveigled 
into  a  controversy.  But,  my  dear  Sybil,  I  will  do 
my  best  to  explain  to  you  what  I  mean,  especially 
as  at  your  age  you  are  not  likely  to  discover  the 
truth  for  yourself.  In  the  first  place,  charity  of  any 
sort  is  the  most  insidious  destroyer  of  moral  charac- 
ter which  the  world  has  ever  known.  The  man  who 
once  accepts  it,  even  in  extremes,  imbibes  a  poison 
from  which  his  system  can  never  be  thoroughly 
cleansed.  You  let  him  loose  upon  society,  and  the 
evil  which  you  have  sown  in  him  spreads.  He  is 
like  a  man  with  an  infectious  disease.  He  is  a 
source  of  evil  to  the  community.  You  have  relieved 


CHARITY   THE   "CRIME"  115 

a  physical  want,  and  you  have  destroyed  a  moral 
quality.  I  do  not  need  to  point  out  to  you  that  the 
balance  is  on  the  wrong  side." 

Sybil  glanced  across  at  Brooks,  and  he  smiled  back 
at  her. 

"  Lord  Arranmore  has  not  finished  yet,"  he  said. 
"  Let  us  hear  the  worst." 

Their  host  smiled. 

"  After  all,"  he  said,  "  why  do  I  waste  my  breath? 
From  the  teens  to  the  thirties  sentiment  smiles.  It 
is  only  later  on  in  life  that  reason  has  any  show  at 
all.  Yet  you  should  ask  yourselves,  you  eager  self- 
denying  young  people,  who  go  about  with  a  healthy 
moral  glow  inside  because  you  have  fed  the  poor,  or 
given  an  hour  or  so  of  your  time  to  the  distribu- 
tion of  reckless  charity — you  should  ask  yourselves: 
What  is  the  actual  good  of  ministering  to  the  out- 
ward signs  of  an  internal  disease?  You  are  simply 
trying  to  renovate  the  outside  when  the  inside  is 
filthy.  Don't  you  see,  my  dear  young  people,  that 
to  give  a  meal  to  one  starving  man  may  be  to  do 
him  indeed  good,  but  it  does  nothing  towards  pre- 
venting another  starving  man  from  taking  his  place 
to-morrow.  You  stimulate  the  disease,  you  help  it 
to  spread.  Don't  you  see  where  instead  you  should 
turn  —  to  the  social  laws,  the  outcome  of  which  is 
that  starving  man  ?  You  let  them  remain  unharmed, 
untouched,  while  you  fall  over  one  another  in  frantic 
efforts  to  brush  away  to-day's  effect  of  an  eternal 
cause.  Let  your  starving  man  die,  let  the  bones 
break  through  his  skin  and  carry  him  up  —  him  and 
his  wife  and  their  children,  and  their  fellows  —  to 
your  House  of  Commons.  Tell  them  that  there  are 


ii6  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

more  to-morrow,  more  the  next  day,  let  the  millions 
of  the  lower  classes  look  this  thing  in  the  face.  I 
tell  you  that  either  by  a  revolution,  which  no  doubt 
some  of  us  would  find  worse  than  inconvenient,  or 
by  less  drastic  means,  the  thing  would  right  itself. 
You,  who  work  to  relieve  the  individual,  only  post- 
pone and  delay  the  millennium.  People  will  keep 
their  eyes  closed  as  long  as  they  can.  It  is  you 
who  help  them  to  do  so." 

"  Dinner  is  served,  my  lord,"  the  butler  announced. 

Lord  Arranmore  extended  his  arm  to  Lady  Caroom. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  let  us  all  be  charitable  to  one 
another,  for  I  too  am  starving." 


AN    AWKWARD    QUESTION 

"  'VT'OU  think  they  really  liked  it,  then?  " 

"How  could  they  help  it?  It  was  such  a 
delightful  idea  of  yours,  and  I  am  sure  all  that  you 
said  was  so  simple  and  yet  suggestive.  Good-night, 
Mr.  Brooks." 

They  stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  Secular  Hall, 
where  Brooks  had  just  delivered  his  lecture.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  her  farewell  was  a  little  abrupt. 

"  I  was  going  to  ask,"  he  said,  "  whether  I  might 
not  see  you  home." 

She  hesitated. 

"  Really,"  she  said,  "  I  wish  you  would  not  trouble. 
It  is  quite  a  long  way,  and  I  have  only  to  get  into  a 
car." 

"  The  further  the  better,"  he  answered,  "  and  be- 
sides, if  your  uncle  is  at  home  I  should  like  to  come 
in  and  see  him." 

She  made  no  further  objection,  yet  Brooks  fancied 
that  her  acquiescence  was,  to  some  extent,  involun- 
tary. He  walked  by  her  side  in  silence  for  a  moment 
or  two,  wondering  whether  there  was  indeed  any  way 
in  which  he  could  have  offended  her. 

"  I  have  not  seen  you,"  he  remarked,  "  since  the 
evening  of  your  dinner-party." 

"No!" 


ii8  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  You  were  out  when  I  called." 

"  I  have  so  many  things  to  do  —  just  now.  We 
can  get  a  car  here." 

He  looked  at  it. 

"  It  is  too  full,"  he  said.  "  Let  us  walk  on  for  a 
little  way.  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

The  car  was  certainly  full,  so  after  a  moment's 
hesitation  she  acquiesced. 

"You  will  bring  your  girls  again,  I  hope?"  he 
asked. 

"  They  will  come  I  have  no  doubt,"  she  answered. 
"  So  will  I  if  I  am  in  Medchester." 

"  You  are  going  away  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so,"  she  answered.  "  I  am  not  quite 
sure." 

"Not  for  good?" 

"Possibly." 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  about  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Well  — I  don't  know!" 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment. 

"  I  will  tell  you  if  you  like,"  she  said,  doubtfully. 
"  But  I  do  not  wish  anything  said  about  it  at  present, 
as  my  arrangements  are  not  complete." 

"  I  will  be  most  discreet,"  he  promised. 

"  I  have  been  doing  a  little  work  for  a  woman's 
magazine  in  London,  and  they  have  half  promised 
me  a  definite  post  on  the  staff.  I  am  to  hear  in  a 
few  days  as  to  the  conditions.  If  they  are  satisfac- 
tory—  that  is  to  say,  if  I  can  keep  myself  on  what 
they  offer  —  I  shall  go  and  live  in  London." 

He  was  surprised,  and  also  in  a  sense  disappointed. 
It  was  astonishing  to  find  how  unpleasant  the  thought 
of  her  leaving  Medchester  was  to  him. 


AN   AWKWARD   QUESTION  119 

"  I  had  no  idea  of  this,"  he  said,  thoughtfully.  "  I 
did  not  know  that  you  went  in  for  anything  of  the 
sort." 

"  My  literary  ambitions  are  slight  enough,"  she 
answered.  "  Yet  you  can  scarcely  be  surprised  that 
I  find  the  thought  of  a  definite  career  and  a  certain 
amount  of  independence  attractive." 

He  stole  a  sidelong  glance  at  her.  In  her  plainly- 
made  clothes  and  quiet  hat  she  was  scarcely,  perhaps, 
a  girl  likely  to  attract  attention,  yet  he  was  conscious 
of  certain  personal  qualities,  which  he  had  realized 
and  understood  from  the  first.  She  carried  herself 
well,  she  walked  with  the  free  graceful  movements 
of  a  well-bred  and  healthy  girl.  In  her  face  was  an 
air  of  quiet  thought,  the  self-possession  of  the  woman 
of  culture  and  experience.  Her  claim  to  good  looks 
was,  after  all,  slight  enough,  yet  on  studying  her  he 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  she  could  if  she  chose 
appear  to  much  greater  advantage.  Her  hair,  soft 
and  naturally  wavy,  was  brushed  too  resolutely  back ; 
her  smile,  which  was  always  charming,  she  suffered 
to  appear  only  at  the  rarest  intervals.  She  suggested 
a  life  of  repression,  and  with  his  knowledge  of  the 
Bullsom  menage  he  was  able  to  surmise  some  glim- 
mering of  the  truth. 

"You  are  right,"  he  declared.  "I  think  that  I 
can  understand  what  your  feeling  must  be.  I  am 
sure  I  wish  you  luck." 

The  touch  of  sympathy  helped  her  to  unbend.  She 
glanced  towards  him  kindly. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said.  "  Of  course  there  will  be 
difficulties.  My  uncle  will  not  like  it.  He  is  very 
good-natured  and  very  hospitable,  and  I  am  afraid 


120  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

his  limitations  will  not  permit  him  to  appreciate  ex- 
actly how  I  feel  about  it.  And  my  aunt  is,  of  course, 
merely  his  echo." 

"  He  will  not  be  unreasonable,"  Brooks  said.  "  I 
am  sure  of  that.  For  a  man  who  is  naturally  of  an 
obstinate  turn  of  mind  I  think  your  uncle  is  wonder- 
ful. He  makes  great  efforts  to  free  himself  from  all 
prejudices." 

"  Unfortunately,"  she  remarked,  "  he  is  very  down 
on  the  independent  woman.  He  would  make  house- 
keepers and  cooks  of  all  of  us." 

"  Surely,"  he  protested,  with  a  quiet  smile,  "  your 
cousins  are  more  ambitious  than  that.  I  am  sure 
Selina  would  never  wear  a  cooking-apron,  unless  it 
had  ribbon  and  frilly  things  all  over  it." 

She  laughed. 

"  After  all,  they  have  been  kind  to  me,"  she  said. 
"  My  mother  was  the  black  sheep  of  the  family,  and 
when  she  died  Mr.  Bullsom  paid  my  passage  home, 
and  insisted  upon  my  coming  to  live  here  as  one  of 
the  family.  I  should  hate  them  to  think  that  I  am 
discontented,  only  the  things  which  satisfy  them  do 
not  satisfy  me,  so  life  sometimes  becomes  a  little 
difficult." 

"  Have  you  friends  in  London?  "  he  asked. 

"None!  I  tried  living  there  when  I  first  came 
back  for  a  few  weeks,  but  it  was  impossible." 

"  You  will  be  very  lonely,  surely.  London  is  the 
loneliest  of  all  great  cities." 

"  Why  should  I  not  make  friends?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  too  asked  myself  years  ago  when 
I  was  articled  there,"  he  answered.  "  Yet  it  is  not 
so  easy  as  it  sounds.  Every  one  seems  to  have  their 


AN   AWKWARD    QUESTION  121 

own  little  circle,  and  a  solitary  person  remains  so 
often  just  outside.  Yet  if  you  have  friends  —  and 
tastes  —  London  is  a  paradise.  Oh,  how  fascinat- 
ing I  used  to  find  it  just  at  first  —  before  the  chill 
came.  You,  too,  will  feel  that.  You  will  be  content 
at  first  to  watch,  to  listen,  to  wonder!  Every  type 
of  humanity  passes  before  you  like  the  jumbled-up 
figures  of  a  kaleidoscope.  You  are  content  even  to 
sit  before  a  window  in  a  back  street  —  and  listen. 
What  a  sound  that  is  —  the  roar  of  London,  the 
voices  of  the  street,  the  ceaseless  hum,  the  creaking 
of  the  great  wheel  of  humanity  as  it  goes  round  and 
round.  And  then,  perhaps,  in  a  certain  mood  the 
undernote  falls  upon  your  ear,  the  bitter,  long-drawn- 
out  cry  of  the  hopeless  and  helpless.  When  you  have 
once  heard  it,  life  is  never  the  same  again.  Then, 
if  you  do  not  find  friends,  you  will  know  what 
misery  is." 

They  were  both  silent  for  a  few  minutes.  A  car 
passed  them  unnoticed.  Then  she  looked  at  him 
curiously. 

"  For  a  lawyer,"  she  remarked,  "  you  are  a  very 
imaginative  person." 

He  laughed. 

"  Ah,  well,  I  was  talking  just  then  of  how  I  felt  in 
those  days.  I  was  a  boy  then,  you  know.  I  dare 
say  I  could  go  back  now  to  my  old  rooms  and  live 
there  without  a  thrill." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  What  one  has  once  felt,"  she  murmured,  "  comes 
back  always." 

"  Sometimes  only  the  echo,"  he  answered,  "  and 
that  is  weariness." 


122  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

They  walked  for  a  little  way  in  silence.  Then  she 
spoke  to  him  in  an  altered  tone. 

"  I  have  heard  a  good  deal  about  you  during  the 
last  few  weeks,"  she  said.  "  You  are  very  much  to 
be  congratulated,  they  tell  me.  I  am  sure  I  am  very 
glad  that  you  have  been  so  fortunate." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  answered.  "  To  tell  you  the 
truth,  it  all  seems  very  marvellous  to  me.  Only  a 
few  months  ago  your  uncle  was  almost  my  only 
client  of  importance." 

"  Lord  Arranmore  was  your  father's  friend  though, 
was  he  not?  " 

"  They  came  together  abroad,"  he  answered,  "  and 
Lord  Arranmore  was  with  my  father  when  he  died 
in  Canada." 

She  stopped  short. 

"Where?" 

"  In  Canada,  on  the  banks  of  Lake  Ono,  if  you 
know  where  that  is,"  he  answered,  looking  at  her 
in  surprise. 

She  resumed  her  usual  pace,  but  he  noticed  that 
she  was  pale. 

"  So  Lord  Arranmore  was  in  Canada?"  she  said. 
"  Do  you  know  how  long  ago  ?  " 

"About  ten  years,  I  suppose,"  he  answered.  "How 
long  before  that  I  do  not  know." 

She  was  silent  for  several  minutes,  and  they  found 
themselves  in  the  drive  leading  to  the  Bullsom  villa. 
OBrooks  was  curious. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  asked,  "  whether  you  will  tell  me 
why  you  are  interested  in  Lord  Arranmore  —  and 
Canada?" 

"  I  was  born  in  Montreal,"  she  answered,  "  and  I 


AN   AWKWARD   QUESTION  123 

once  saw  some  one  very  much  like  Lord  Arranmore 
there.  But  I  am  convinced  that  it  could  only  have 
been  a  resemblance." 

"  You  mentioned  it  before  —  when  we  saw  him  in 
Mellor's,"  he  remarked. 

"  Yes,  it  struck  me  then/'  she  admitted.  "  But  I 
am  sure  that  Lord  Arranmore  could  not  have  been  the 
person  whom  I  am  thinking  about.  It  is  ridiculous  of 
me  to  attach  so  much  importance  to  a  mere  likeness." 

They  stood  upon  the  doorstep,  but  she  checked  him 
as  he  reached  out  for  the  bell. 

"  You  have  seen  quite  a  good  deal  of  him,"  she 
said.  "  Tell  me  what  you  think  of  Lord  Arranmore." 

His  hand  fell  to  his  side.  He  stood  under  the  gas- 
bracket, and  she  could  see  his  face  distinctly.  There 
was  a  slight  frown  upon  his  forehead,  a  look  of 
trouble  in  his  grey  eyes. 

"  You  could  not  have  asked  me  a  more  difficult 
question,"  he  admitted.  "  Lord  Arranmore  has  been 
very  kind  to  me,  although  my  claim  upon  him  has 
been  of  the  slightest.  He  is  very  clever,  almost  fan- 
tastic, in  some  of  his  notions;  he  is  very  polished, 
and  his  manners  are  delightful.  He  would  call  him- 
self, I  believe,  a  philosopher,  and  he  is,  although  it 
sounds  brutal  for  me  to  say  so,  very  selfish.  And 
behind  it  all  I  have  n't  the  faintest  idea  what  sort  of 
a  man  he  is.  Sometimes  he  gives  one  the  impression 
of  a  strong  man  wilfully  disguising  his  real  character- 
istics, for  hidden  reasons ;  at  others,  he  is  like  one  of 
those  brilliant  Frenchmen  of  the  last  century,  who 
toyed  and  juggled  with  words  and  phrases,  es- 
teeming it  a  triumph  to  remain  an  unread  letter 
even  to  their  intimates.  So  you  see,  after  all,"  he 


124  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

wound  up,  "  I  cannot  tell  you  what  I  think  of  Lord 
Arranmore." 

"  You  can  ring  the  bell,"  she  said.  "  You  must 
come  in  for  a  few  minutes." 

Their  entrance  together  seemed  to  cause  the  little 
family  party  a  certain  amount  of  disturbed  surprise. 
The  girls  greeted  Brooks  with  a  great  show  of  pleas- 
ure, but  they  looked  doubtfully  at  Mary. 

"  Did  you  meet  at  the  front  door?  "  Selina  asked. 
"  I  thought  I  heard  voices." 

Brooks  was  a  little  surprised. 

"  Your  cousin  brought  her  class  of  factory  girls  to 
my  lecture  to-night  at  the  Secular  Hall." 

Selina's  eyes  narrowed  a  little,  and  she  was  silent 
for  a  moment.  Then  she  turned  to  her  cousin. 

"  You  might  have  told  us,  Mary,"  she  exclaimed, 
reproachfully.  "  We  should  so  much  have  liked  to 
come,  should  n't  we,  Louise?  " 

"  Of  course  we  should,"  Louise  answered,  snap- 
pishly. "  I  can't  think  why  Mary  should  go  off  with- 
out saying  a  word." 

Mary  looked  at  them  both  and  laughed. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  have  left  the  house  at  pre- 
cisely the  same  time  on  Wednesday  evenings  all 
through  the  winter,  and  neither  of  you  have  said 
anything  about  coming  with  me." 

"  This  is  quite  different,"  Selina  answered,  cut- 
tingly. "  We  should  very  much  have  enjoyed  Mr. 
Brooks'  lecture.  Do  tell  us  what  it  was  about." 

"  Don't  you  be  bothered,  Brooks,"  Mr.  Bullsom 
exclaimed,  hospitably.  "  Sit  down  and  try  one  of 
these  cigars.  We  've  had  supper,  but  if  you  'd  like 
anything " 


AN   AWKWARD    QUESTION  125 

"  Nothing  to  eat,  thanks,"  Brooks  protested.  "  I  '11 
have  a  cigar  if  I  may." 

"  And  a  whisky-and-soda,  then,"  Mr.  Bullsom  in- 
sisted. "  Say  when !  " 

Brooks  turned  to  Selina.    Mary  had  left  the  room. 

"  You  were  asking  about  the  lecture,"  he  said. 
"  Really,  it  was  only  a  very  unpretentious  affair,  and 
to  tell  you  the  truth,  only  intended  for  people  whose 
opportunities  for  reading  have  not  been  great.  I  am 
quite  sure  it  would  not  have  been  worth  your  while 
to  come  down.  We  just  read  a  chapter  or  so  from 
A  Tale  of  Tivo  Cities,  and  talked  about  it." 

"  We  should  have  liked  it  very  much,"  Selina  de- 
clared. "  Do  tell  us  when  there  is  another  one,  will 
you?" 

"  With  pleasure,"  he  answered.  "  I  warn  you, 
though,  that  you  will  be  disappointed." 

"  We  will  risk  that,"  Selina  declared,  with  a  smile. 
"  Have  you  been  to  Enton  this  week  ?  " 

"  I  was  there  on  Sunday,"  he  answered. 

"  And  is  that  beautiful  girl,  Lady  Sybil  Caroom, 
still  staying  there?" 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  Is  she  very  beautiful,  by 
the  bye?" 

"  Well,  I  thought  men  would  think  so,"  Selina  said, 
hastily.  "  I  think  that  she  is  just  a  little  loud,  don't 
you,  Louise  ?  " 

Louise  admitted  that  the  idea  had  occurred  to  her. 

"And  her  hair  —  isn't  it  badly  dyed?"  Selina 
remarked.  "  Such  a  pity.  It 's  all  in  patches." 

"  I  think  girls  ought  not  to  make  up  in  the  street, 
either,"  Louise  remarked,  primly.  "  A  little  powder 
in  the  house  is  all  very  well "  —  (Louise  had  a  nose 


126  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

which  gave  her  trouble)  —  "  but  I  really  don't  think 
it  looks  respectable  in  the  street." 

"  I  suppose,"  Selina  remarked,  "  you  men  admire 
all  that  sort  of  thing,  don't  you?  " 

"  I  really  had  n't  noticed  it  with  Lady  Sybil," 
Brooks  admitted. 

Selina  sighed. 

"  Men  are  so  blind,"  she  remarked.  "  You  watch 
next  time  you  are  close  to  her,  Mr.  Brooks." 

"  I  will,"  he  promised.  "  I  '11  get  her  between  me 
and  a  window  in  a  strong  north  light." 

Selina  laughed. 

"Don't  be  too  unkind,"  she  said.  "That's  the 
worst  of  you  men.  When  you  do  find  anything  out 
you  are  always  so  severe." 

"  After  all,  though,"  Louise  remarked,  with  a  side- 
long glance,  "  it  must  be  very,  very  interesting  to 
meet  these  sort  of  people,  even  if  one  does  n't  quite 
belong  to  their  set.  I  should  think  you  must  find 
every  one  else  quite  tame,  Mr.  Brooks." 

"  I  can  assure  you  I  don't,"  he  answered,  coolly. 
"  This  evening  has  provided  me  with  quite  as  pleasant 
society  as  ever  I  should  wish  for." 

Selina  beamed  upon  him. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Brooks,  you  are  terrible.  You  do  say 
such  things !  "  she  declared,  archly. 

Louise  laughed  a  little  hardly. 

"  We  must  n't  take  too  much  to  ourselves,  dear," 
she  said.  "  Remember  that  Mr.  Brooks  walked  all 
the  way  up  from  the  Secular  Hall  with  Mary." 

Mr.  Bullsom  threw  down  his  paper  with  a  little 
impatient  exclamation. 

"  Come,  come! "  he  said.    "  I  want  to  have  a  few 


AN   AWKWARD   QUESTION  127 

words  with  Brooks  myself,  if  you  girls  '11  give  me  a 
chance.  Heard  anything  from  Henslow  lately,  eh  ?  " 

Brooks  leaned  forward. 

"  Not  a  word !  "  he  answered. 

Mr.  Bullsom  grunted. 

"  H'm !  He 's  taken  his  seat,  and  that 's  all  he  does 
seem  to  have  done.  To  have  heard  his  last  speech 
here  before  polling  time  you  would  have  imagined 
him  with  half-a-dozen  questions  down  before  now. 
He  's  letting  the  estimates  go  by,  too.  There  are 
half-a-dozen  obstructors,  all  faddists,  but  Henslow, 
with  a  real  case  behind  him,  is  sitting  tight.  'Pon 
my  word,  I  'm  not  sure  that  I  like  the  fellow." 

"  I  ventured  to  write  to  him  the  other  evening," 
Brooks  said,  "  and  I  have  sent  him  all  the  statistics 
we  promised.  He  seems  to  have  regarded  my  letter 
as  an  impertinence,  though,  for  he  has  never  an- 
swered it." 

"  You  mark  my  words,"  Mr.  Bullsom  said,  doub- 
ling the  paper  up  and  bringing  it  down  viciously  upon 
his  knee,  "  Henslow  will  never  sit  again  for  Med- 
chester.  There  was  none  too  much  push  about  him 
last  session,  but  he  smoothed  us  all  over  somehow. 
He  '11  not  do  it  again.  I  'm  losing  faith  in  the  man, 
[Brooks." 

Brooks  was  genuinely  disturbed.  His  own  sus- 
picions had  been  gathering  strength  during  the  last 
few  weeks.  Henslow  had  been  pleasant  enough,  but 
a  little  flippant  after  the  election.  From  London  he 
had  promised  to  write  to  Mr.  Bullsom,  as  chairman 
of  his  election  committee,  mapping  out  the  course  of 
action  which,  in  pursuance  of  his  somewhat  daring 
pledges,  he  proposed  to  embark  upon.  This  was  more 


128  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

than  a  month  ago,  and  there  had  come  not  a  single 
word  from  him.  All  that  vague  distrust  which 
Brooks  had  sometimes  felt  in  the  man  was  rekindled 
and  increased,  and  with  it  came  a  flood  of  bitter 
thoughts.  Another  opportunity  then  was  to  be  lost. 
For  seven  years  longer  these  thousands  of  pallid, 
heart-weary  men  and  women  were  to  suffer,  with  no 
one  to  champion  their  cause.  He  saw  again  that  sea 
of  eager  faces  in  the  market-place,  lit  with  a  sudden 
gleam  of  hope  as  they  listened  to  the  bold  words  of 
the  man  who  was  promising  them  life  and  hope  and 
better  things.  Surely  if  this  was  a  betrayal  it  was  an 
evil  deed,  not  passively  to  be  borne. 

Mr.  Bullsom  had  refreshed  himself  with  whisky- 
and-water,  and  decided  that  pessimism  was  not  a 
healthy  state  of  mind. 

"  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Brooks,"  he  said,  more 
cheerfully.  "  We  must  n't  be  too  previous  in  judging 
the  fellow.  Let's  write  him  civilly,  and  if  nothing 
comes  of  it  in  a  week  or  two,  we  will  run  up  to 
London,  you  and  me,  eh?  and  just  haul  him  over  the 
coals." 

"  You  are  right,  Mr.  Bullsom,"  Brooks  said. 
"  There  is  nothing  we  can  do  for  the  present." 

"  Please  don't  talk  any  more  horrid  politics," 
Selina  begged.  "  We  want  Mr.  Brooks  to  give  us  a 
lesson  at  billiards.  Do  you  mind?" 

Brooks  rose  at  once. 

"  I  shall  be  charmed ! "  he  declared. 

Mr.  Bullsom  rose  also. 

"  Pooh,  pooh !  "  he  said.  "  Brooks  and  I  will  have 
a  hundred  up  and  you  can  watch  us.  That  '11  be 
lesson  enough  for  you." 


AN   AWKWARD   QUESTION  129 

Selina  made  a  little  grimace,  but  they  all  left  the 
room  together.  In  the  hall  a  housemaid  was  speaking 
at  the  telephone,  and  a  moment  afterwards  she  laid 
the  receiver  down  and  came  towards  them. 

"  It  is  a  message  for  Mr.  Brooks,  sir,  from  the 
Queen's  Hotel.  Lord  Arranmore's  compliments,  and 
the  ladies  from  Enton  are  at  the  theatre  this  evening, 
and  would  be  glad  if  Mr.  Brooks  would  join  them  at 
the  Queen's  Hotel  for  supper  at  eleven  o'clock." 

Brooks  hesitated,  but  Mr.  Bullsom  spoke  up  at 
once. 

"  Off  you  go,  Brooks,"  he  said,  firmly.  "  Don't 
you  go  refusing  an  invitation  like  that.  Lord  Arran- 
more  is  a  bit  eccentric,  they  say,  and  he  is  n't  the  sort 
of  man  to  like  refusals.  You  've  just  got  time." 

"  They  had  the  message  two  hours  ago,  and  have 
been  trying  everywhere  to  find  Mr.  Brooks,"  the 
housemaid  added. 

Selina  helped  him  on  with  his  coat. 

"  Will  you  come  another  evening  soon  and  play 
billiards  with  us  ?  "  she  asked,  dropping  her  voice  a 
little. 

"  With  pleasure,"  Brooks  answered.  "  Do  you 
mind  saying  good-bye  to  your  cousin  for  me?  I  am 
sorry  not  to  see  her  again." 


CHAPTER   XV 

A   SUPPER-PARTY   AT   THE   "  QUEEN'S  " 

BROOKS  was  shown  into  a  private  room  at  the 
Queen's  Hotel,  and  he  certainly  had  no  cause 
to  complain  of  the  warmth  of  his  welcome.  Lady 
Sybil,  in  fact,  made  room  for  him  by  her  side,  and 
he  fancied  that  there  was  a  gleam  of  reproach  in 
her  eyes  as  she  looked  up  at  him. 

"  Is  Medchester  really  so  large  a  place  that  one 
can  get  lost  in  it?"  she  asked.  "Lord  Arranmore 
has  been  sending  messengers  in  every  direction  ever 
since  we  decided  upon  our  little  excursion." 

"  I  telephoned  to  your  office,  sent  a  groom  to  your 
rooms  and  to  the  club,  and  at  last  we  had  given  you 
up,"  Lord  Arranmore  remarked. 

"  And  I,"  Sybil  murmured,  "  was  in  a  shocking 
bad  temper." 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you  all,"  Brooks  remarked, 
cheerfully.  "  I  left  the  office  rather  early,  and  have 
been  giving  a  sort  of  lecture  to-night  at  the  Secular 
Hall.  Then  I  went  up  to  have  a  game  of  billiards 
with  Mr.  Bullsom.  Your  telephone  message  found 
me  there.  You  must  remember  that  even  if  Med- 
chester is  not  a  very  large  place  I  am  a  very  unim- 
portant person." 

"  Dear  me,  what  modesty,"  Lady  Caroom  re- 
marked, laughing.  "  To  us,  however,  you  happened 
to  be  very  important.  I  hate  a  party  of  three." 


A   SUPPER-PARTY  AT  THE   "  QUEEN'S "  131 

Brooks  helped  himself  to  a  quail,  and  remembered 
that  he  was  hungry. 

"This  is  very  unusual  dissipation,  isn't  it?"  he 
asked.  "  I  never  dreamed  that  you  would  be  likely 
to  come  into  our  little  theatre." 

"  It  was  Sybil's  doings,"  Lady  Caroom  answered. 
"  She  declared  that  she  was  dull,  and  that  she  had 
never  seen  A  Message  from  Mars.  I  think  that  all 
that  serious  talk  the  other  evening  gave  her  the 
blues." 

"  I  am  always  dull  in  the  winter  when  there  is  no 
hunting,"  Sybil  remarked.  "  This  frost  is  abomin- 
able. I  have  not  forgotten  our  talk  either.  I  feel 
positively  wicked  every  time  I  sip  champagne." 

"  Our  young  philanthropist  will  reassure  you," 
Arranmore  remarked,  drily. 

Lady  Caroom  sighed. 

"  I  wonder  how  it  is,"  she  murmured,  "  that  one's 
conscience  and  one's  digestion  both  grow  weaker  as 
one  grows  old.  You  and  I,  Arranmore,  are  content 
to  accept  the  good  things  of  the  earth  as  they  come 
to  us." 

"  With  me,"  he  answered,  "  it  is  the  philosophy  of 
approaching  old  age,  but  you  have  no  such  excuse. 
iWith  you  it  must  be  sheer  callousness.  You  are  in 
an  evil  way,  Lady  Caroom.  Do  have  another  of 
these  quails." 

"  You  are  very  rude,"  she  answered,  "  and  ex- 
tremely unsympathetic.  But  I  will  have  another 
quail."' 

"  I  do  not  want  to  destroy  your  appetite,  Mr. 
Brooks,"  Lady  Sybil  said,  "  but  this  is  —  if  not  a 
farewell  feast,  something  like  it." 


132  A    PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

He  looked  at  her  with  sudden  interest. 

:<  You  are  going  away  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Very  soon,"  she  assented.  "  We  were  so  com- 
fortable at  Enton,  and  the  hunting  has  been  so  good, 
that  we  cut  out  one  of  our  visits.  Mamma  developed 
a  convenient  attack  of  influenza.  But  the  next  one 
is  very  near  now,  and  our  host  is  almost  tired  of 
us." 

Lord  Arranmore  was  for  a  moment  silent. 

"  You  have  made  Enton,"  he  said,  "  intolerable  for 
a  solitary  man.  When  you  go  I  go." 

"  I  wish  you  could  say  whither  instead  of  when," 
Lady  Caroom  answered.  "  How  bored  you  would 
be  at  Redcliffe.  It  is  really  the  most  outlandish  place 
we  go  to." 

"  Why  ever  do  we  accept,  mamma?  "  Sybil  asked. 
"  Last  year  I  nearly  cried  my  eyes  out,  I  was  so  dull. 
Not  a  man  fit  to  talk  to,  or  a  horse  fit  to  ride.  The 
girls  bicycle,  and  Lord  Redcliffe  breeds  cattle  and 
talks  turnips." 

"  And  they  all  drink  port  after  dinner,"  Lady 
Caroom  moaned ;  "  but  we  have  to  go,  dear.  We 
must  live  rent  free  somewhere  during  these  months 
to  get  through  the  season." 

Sybil  looked  at  Brooks  with  laughter  in  her  eyes. 

"Aren't  we  terrible  people?"  she  whispered 
"  You  are  by  way  of  being  literary,  are  n't  you  ? 
You  should  write  an  article  on  the  shifts  of  the 
aristocracy.  Mamma  and  I  could  supply  you  with 
all  the  material.  The  real  trouble,  of  course,  is  that 
I  don't  marry." 

"  Fancy  glorying  in  your  failure,"  Lady  Caroom 
.said,  complacently.  "  Three  seasons,  Arranmore, 


A  SUPPER-PARTY  AT  THE  "QUEEN'S"     133 

have  I  had  to  drag  that  girl  round.  I  Ve  washed 
my  hands  of  her  now.  She  must  look  after  herself. 
A  girl  who  refuses  one  of  the  richest  young  men 
in  England  because  she  did  n't  like  his  collars  is 
incorrigible.''  * 

"  It  was  not  his  collars,  mother,"  Sybil  objected. 
"  It  was  his  neck.  He  was  always  called  '  the 
Giraffe.'  He  had  no  head  and  all  neck  —  the  most 
fatuous  person,  too.  I  hate  fools." 

"  That  is  where  you  lack  education,  dear,"  Lady 
Caroom  answered.  "  A  fool  is  the  most  useful  per- 
son —  for  a  husband." 

Sybil  glanced  towards  Brooks  with  a  little  sigh, 
and,  catching  a  glimpse  of  his  expression,  burst  out 
laughing. 

"  Mother,  you  must  really  not  let  your  tongue 
run  away  with  you.  Mr.  Brooks  is  believing  every 
word  you  say.  You  need  n't,"  she  murmured  in  a 
discreet  undertone.  "  Mother  and  I  chaff  one  an- 
other terribly,  but  we  're  really  very  nicely-behaved 
persons  —  for  our  station  in  life." 

"  Lady  Caroom  has  such  a  delightfully  easy  way 
of  romancing,"  Brooks  said. 

Sybil  nodded. 

"  It 's  quite  true,"  she  answered.  "  She  ought  to 
write  the  prospectuses  for  gold  mines  and  things." 

Arranmore  smiled  across  the  table  at  Brooks. 

"  This,"  he  said,  "  is  what  I  have  had  to  endure 
for  the  last  six  weeks.  Do  you  wonder  that  I  am 
getting  balder,  or  that  I  set  all  my  people  to  work  to- 
night to  try  and  find  some  one  to  suffer  with  me?  " 

"  He  '11  be  so  dull  when  we  've  gone,"  Lady  Caroom 
sighed. 


134  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  You  've  no  idea  how  we  've  improved  him,"  Sybil 
murmured.  "  He  used  to  read  Owen  Meredith  after 
dinner,  and  go  to  sleep.  By  the  bye,  where  are  you 
going  when  we  leave  Enton  ?  " 

Lord  Arranmore  hesitated.      v 

"  Well,  I  really  am  not  sure,"  he  said.  "  You  have 
alarmed  me.  Don't  go." 

Lady  Caroom  laughed. 

"  My  dear  man,"  she  said,  "  we  must !  I  dare  n't 
offend  the  Redcliffes.  He  's  my  trustee,  and  he  '11 
never  let  me  overdraw  a  penny  unless  I  'm  civil  to 
him.  If  I  were  you  I  should  go  to  the  Riviera. 
iWe  '11  lend  you  our  cottage  at  Lugiano.  It  has  been 
empty  for  a  year." 

"  Come  and  be  hostess,"  he  said.  "  I  promise  you 
that  I  will  not  hesitate  then." 

She  shook  her  head  towards  Sybil. 

"How  can  I  marry  that  down  there?"  she  de- 
manded. "  No  young  men  who  are  really  respect- 
able go  abroad  at  this  time  of  the  year.  They  are 
all  hunting  or  shooting.  The  Riviera  is  thronged 
with  roues  and  invalids  and  adventurers,  and  we 
don't  want  any  of  them.  Dear  me,  what  sacrifices 
a  grown-up  daughter  does  entail.  This  coming  sea- 
son shall  be  your  last,  Sybil.  I  won't  drag  you 
round  again.  I  'm  really  getting  ashamed  of  it." 

"  Is  n't  she  dreadful?  "  Sybil  murmured  to  Brooks. 
"  I  hope  you  will  come  to  Enton  before  we  leave." 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,  Lady  Sybil,"  Brooks  said, 
"  but  you  must  remember  that  I  am  not  like  most 
of  the  men  you  meet.  I  have  to  work  hard,  espe- 
cially just  now." 

"  And  if  I  were  you  I  would  be  thankful  for  it," 


A  SUPPER-PARTY  AT  THE  "QUEEN'S"     135 

she  said,  warmly.  "  From  our  point  of  view,  at  any 
rate,  there  is  nothing  so  becoming  to  a  man  as  the 
fact  that  he  is  a  worker.  Sport  is  an  excellent  thing, 
but  I  detest  young  men  who  do  nothing  else  but  shoot 
and  hunt  and  loaf  about.  It  seems  to  me  to  destroy 
character  where  work  creates  it.  All  the  same,  I  hope 
you  will  find  an  opportunity  to  come  to  Enton  and  say 
good-bye  to  us." 

Brooks  was  suddenly  conscious  that  it  would  be 
no  pleasant  thing  to  say  good-bye  to  Lady  Sybil. 
He  had  never  known  any  one  like  her,  so  perfectly 
frank  and  girlish,  and  yet  with  character  enough  un- 
derneath in  her  rare  moments  of  seriousness.  More 
than  ever  he  was  struck  with  the  wonderful  likeness 
between  mother  and  daughter. 

"  I  will  come  at  any  time  I  am  asked,"  he  answered, 
quietly,  "  but  I  am  sorry  that  you  are  going." 

They  had  finished  supper,  and  had  drawn  their 
chairs  around  the  fire.  Arranmore  was  smoking  a 
cigarette,  and  Brooks  took  one  from  his  case.  The 
carriage  was  ordered  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Brooks 
found  that  he  and  Sybil  were  a  little  apart  from  the 
others. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  am  sorry  too,"  she  declared. 
"Of  course  it  has  been  much  quieter  at  Enton  than 
most  of  the  houses  we  go  to,  and  we  only  came  at 
first,  I  think,  because  many  years  ago  my  mother 
and  Lord  Arranmore  were  great  friends,  and  she 
fancied  that  he  was  shutting  himself  up  too  much. 
But  I  have  enjoyed  it  very  much  indeed." 

He  looked  at  her  curiously.  He  was  trying  to 
appreciate  what  a  life  of  refined  pleasure  which  she 
must  live  would  really  be  like  —  how  satisfying  — 


136  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

whether  its  limitations  ever  asserted  themselves. 
Sybil  was  a  more  than  ordinarily  pretty  girl,  but 
her  face  was  as  smooth  as  a  child's.  The  joie  de 
vivre  seemed  to  be  always  in  her  eyes.  Yet  there 
were  times,  as  he  knew,  when  she  was  capable  of 
seriousness. 

"  I  am  glad,"  he  said,  "  Lord  Arranmore  will  miss 
you." 

She  laughed  at  him,  her  eyebrows  raised,  a  chal- 
lenge in  her  bright  eyes. 

"  May  I  add  that  I  also  shall  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  You  may,"  she  answered.  "  In  fact,  I  expected 
it.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  did  not  ask  for  it.  And 
that  reminds  me.  I  want  you  to  do  me  a  favour,  if 
you  will." 

"  Anything  I  can  do  for  you,"  he  answered,  "  you 
know  will  give  me  pleasure." 

She  laughed  softly. 

"  It  is  wonderful  how  you  have  improved,"  she 
murmured.  "  I  want  you  to  go  and  see  Lord  Arran- 
more as  often  as  you  can.  We  are  both  very  fond 
of  him  really,  mamma  especially,  and  you  know  that 
he  has  a  very  strange  disposition.  I  am  convinced 
that  solitude  is  the  very  worst  thing  for  him.  I  saw 
him  once  after  he  had  been  alone  for  a  month  or 
two,  and  really  you  would  not  have  known  him.  He 
was  as  thin  as  a  skeleton,  strange  in  his  manner,  and 
he  had  that  sort  of  red  light  in  his  eyes  sometimes 
which  always  makes  me  think  of  mad  people.  He 
ought  not  to  be  alone  at  all,  but  the  usual  sort  of 
society  only  bores  him.  You  will  do  what  you  can, 
won't  you?  " 

"  I  promise  you  that  most  heartily,"  Brooks  de- 


A  SUPPER-PARTY  AT  THE  "QUEEN'S"     137 

clared.  "  But  you  must  remember,  Lady  Sybil,  that 
after  all  it  is  entirely  in  his  hands.  He  has  been  most 
astonishingly  kind  to  me,  considering  that  I  have  no 
manner  of  claim  upon  him.  He  has  made  me  feel  at 
home  at  Enton,  too,  and  been  most  thoughtful  in 
every  way.  For,  after  all,  you  see  I  am  only  his 
man  of  business.  I  have  no  friends  much,  and  those 
whom  I  have  are  Medchester  people.  You  see  I  am 
scarcely  in  a  position  to  offer  him  my  society.  But 
all  the  same,  I  will  take  every  opportunity  I  can  of 
going  to  Enton  if  he  remains  there." 

She  thanked  him  silently.  Lady  Caroom  was  on 
her  feet,  and  Sybil  and  she  went  out  for  their  wraps. 
Lord  Arranmore  lit  a  fresh  cigarette  and  sent  for  his 
bill. 

"  By  the  bye,  Brooks,"  he  remarked,  "  one  does  n't 
hear  much  of  your  man  Henslow." 

"  Mr.  Bullsom  and  I  were  talking  about  it  this 
evening,"  Brooks  answered.  "  We  are  getting  a 
little  anxious." 

"  You  have  had  seven  years  of  him.  You  ought 
to  know  what  to  expect." 

"  The  war  has  blocked  all  legislation,"  Brooks  said. 
"  It  has  been  the  usual  excuse.  Henslow  was  bound 
to  wait.  He  would  have  done  the  particular  measures 
which  we  are  anxious  about  more  harm  than  good  if 
he  had  tried  to  force  them  upon  the  land.  But  now 
it  is  different.  We  are  writing  to  him.  If  nothing 
comes  of  it,  Mr.  Bullsom  and  I  are  going  up  to  see 
him." 

Arranmore  smiled. 

"  You  are  young  to  politics,  Brooks,"  he  remarked, 
"  yet  I  should  scarcely  have  thought  that  you  would 


138  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

have  been  imposed  upon  by  such  a  man  as  Henslow. 
He  is  an  absolute  fraud.  I  heard  him  speak  once,  and 
I  read  two  of  his  speeches.  It  was  sufficient.  The 
man  is  not  in  earnest.  He  has  some  reason,  I  sup- 
pose, for  wishing  to  write  M.P.  after  his  name,  but 
I  am  perfectly  certain  that  he  has  not  the  slightest 
idea  of  carrying  out  his  pledges  to  you.  You  will 
have  to  take  up  politics,  Brooks." 

He  laughed  —  a  little  consciously. 

"  Some  day,"  he  said,  "  the  opportunity  may  come. 
I  will  confess  that  it  is  amongst  my  ambitions.  But 
I  have  many  years'  work  before  me  yet." 

Lord  Arranmore  paid  the  bill,  and  they  joined  the 
women.  As  Brooks  stood  bareheaded  upon  the  pave- 
ment Arranmore  turned  towards  him. 

"  We  must  have  a  farewell  dinner,"  he  said.  "How 
would  to-morrow  suit  you  —  or  Sunday  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  walk  over  on  Sunday,  if  I  might," 
Brooks  answered,  promptly. 

"  We  shall  expect  you  to  lunch.     Good-night." 

The  carriage  drove  off.  Brooks  walked  thought- 
fully through  the  silent  streets  to  his  rooms. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

UNCLE  AND   NIECE 

MR.  BULLSOM  was  an  early  riser,  and  it 
chanced  that,  as  was  frequently  the  case, 
on  the  morning  following  Brooks'  visit  he  and  Mary 
sat  down  to  breakfast  together.  But  when,  after  a 
cursory  glance  through  his  letters,  he  unfolded  the 
paper,  she  stopped  him. 

"  Uncle,"  she  said,  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you  for  a 
few  minutes,  if  I  may." 

"  Go  ahead,"  he  answered.  "  No  fear  of  our  being 
interrupted.  I  shall  speak  to  those  girls  seriously 
about  getting  up.  Now,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  earn  my  own  living,  uncle,"  she  said, 
quietly. 

He  looked  over  his  spectacles  at  her. 

"Eh?" 

"  I  want  to  earn  my  own  living,"  she  repeated. 
"  I  have  been  looking  about  for  a  means  of  doing 
so,  and  I  think  that  I  have  succeeded." 

Mr.  Bullsom  took  off  his  spectacles  and  wiped 
them  carefully. 

"  Earn  your  own  living,  eh !"  he  repeated.  "Well ! 
Go  on!"  " 

Mary  leaned  across  the  table  towards  him. 

"  Don't  think  that  I  am  not  grateful  for  all  you 
have  done  for  me,  uncle,"  she  said.  "  I  am,  indeed. 


140  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Only  I  have  felt  lately  that  it  was  my  duty  to  order 
my  life  a  little  differently.  I  am  young  and  strong, 
and  able  to  work.  There  is  no  reason  why  I  should 
be  a  burden  upon  any  one." 

She  found  his  quietness  ominous,  but  she  did  not 
flinch. 

"  I  am  not  accomplished  enough  for  a  governess, 
or  good-tempered  enough  for  a  companion,"  she 
continued,  "  but  I  believe  I  have  found  something 
which  I  can  do.  I  have  written  several  short  stories 
for  a  woman's  magazine,  and  they  have  made  me  a 
sort  of  offer  to  do  some  regular  work  for  them. 
What  they  offer  would  just  keep  me.  I  want  to 
accept." 

"  Where  should  you  live?  "  he  asked. 

"In  London!"  " 

"Alone?" 

"  There  is  a  girls'  club  in  Chelsea  somewhere.  I 
should  go  there  at  first,  and  then  try  and  share 
rooms  with  another  girl." 

"  How  much  a  week  will  they  give  you?  " 

"  Twenty-eight  shillings,  and  I  shall  be  allowed 
to  contribute  regularly  to  the  magazine  at  the  usual 
rates.  I  ought  to  make  at  least  forty  shillings  a 
week." 

Mr.  Bullsom  sighed. 

"  Is  this  owing  to  any  disagreement  between  you 
and  the  girls?"  he  asked,  sharply. 

"  Certainly  not,"  she  answered. 

"  You  ain't  unhappy  here  ?  Is  there  anything  we 
could  do?  I  don't  want  to  lose  you." 

Mary  was  touched.  She  had  expected  ridicule  or 
opposition.  This  was  more  difficult. 


UNCLE  AND   NIECE  141 

"  Of  course  I  am  not  unhappy,"  she  answered. 
"  You  and  aunt  have  been  both  of  you  most  gen- 
erous and  kind  to  me.  But  I  do  feel  that  a  busy 
life  —  and  I  'm  not  a  bit  domestic,  you  know  — 
would  be  good  for  me.  I  believe,  uncle,  if  you 
were  in  my  place  you  would  feel  just  like  me.  If 
you  were  able  to,  I  expect  you  'd  want  to  earn  your 
own  living." 

"  You  shall  go!  "  he  said,  decidedly.  "  I  '11  help 
you  all  I  can.  You  shall  have  a  bit  down  to  buy 
furniture,  if  you  want  it,  or  an  allowance  till  you 
feel  your  way.  But,  Mary,  I  'm  downright  sorry. 
No,  I  'm  not  blaming  you.  You  've  a  right  to  go. 
I  —  I  don't  believe  I  'd  live  here  if  I  were  you." 

"  You  are  very  good,  uncle,"  Mary  said,  gratefully. 
"  And  you  must  remember  it  is  n't  as  though  I  were 
leaving  you  alone.  You  have  the  girls." 

Mr.  Bullsom  nodded. 

;'  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  have  the  girls.  Look  here, 
Mary,"  he  added,  suddenly,  looking  her  in  the  face, 
"  I  want  to  have  a  word  with  you.  I  'm  going  to 
talk  plainly.  Be  honest  with  me." 

"  Of  course,"  she  murmured. 

"  It 's  about  the  girls.  It 's  a  hard  thing  to  say, 
but  somehow  —  I  'm  a  bit  disappointed  with  them." 

She  looked  at  him  in  something  like  amazement. 

"  Yes,  disappointed,"  he  continued.  "  That 's  the 
word.  I  'm  an  uneducated  man  myself  —  any  fool 
can  see  that  —  but  I  did  all  I  could  to  have  them 
girls  different.  They  've  been  to  the  best  school  in 
Medchester,  and  they  've  been  abroad.  They  've  had 
masters  in  most  everything,  and  I  've  had  'em  taught 
riding  and  driving,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  prop- 


142  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

erly.  Then  as  they  grew  up  I  built  this  'ouse,  and 
came  up  to  live  here  amongst  the  people  whom  I 
reckoned  my  girls  'd  be  sure  to  get  to  know.  And 
the  whole  thing  's  a  damned  failure,  Mary.  That 's 
the  long  and  short  of  it." 

"  Perhaps  —  a  little  later  on "  Mary  began, 

hesitatingly. 

"  Don't  interrupt  me,"  he  said,  brusquely.  "  This 
is  the  first  honest  talk  I  've  ever  had  about  it,  and 
it 's  doing  me  good.  The  girls  'd  like  to  put  it  down 
to  your  mother  and  me,  but  I  don't  believe  it.  I  'm 
ashamed  to  say  it,  but  I  'm  afraid  it 's  the  girls  them- 
selves. There  's  something  not  right  about  them,  but 
I  'm  blessed  if  I  know  what  it  is.  Their  mother  and 
I  are  a  bit  vulgar,  I  know,  but  I  Ve  done  my  best  to 
copy  those  who  know  how  to  behave  —  and  I  believe 
we  'd  get  through  for  what  we  are  anywhere  without 
giving  offence.  But  my  girls  ought  n't  to  be  vulgar. 
It 's  education  as  does  away  with  that,  and  I  've  filled 
'em  chock-full  of  education  from  the  time  they  were 
babies.  It 's  run  out  of  them,  Mary,  like  the  sands 
through  an  hour-glass.  They  can  speak  correctly, 
and  I  dare  say  they  know  all  the  small  society  tricks. 
But  that  is  n't  everything.  They  don't  know  how  to 
dress.  They  can  spend  just  as  much  as  they  like, 
and  then  you  can  come  into  the  room  in  a  black 
gown  as  you  made  yourself,  and  you  look  a  lady, 
and  they  don't.  That 's  the  long  and  short  of  it. 
The  only  decent  people  who  come  to  this  house  are 
your  friends,  and  they  come  to  see  you.  There  's 
young  Brooks,  now.  I  've  no  son,  Mary,  and  I  'm 
fond  of  young  men.  I  never  knew  one  I  liked  as  I 
like  him.  My  daughters  are  old  enough  to  be  mar- 


UNCLE  AND  NIECE  143 

ried,  and  I  'd  give  fifty  thousand  pounds  to  have  him 
for  a  son-in-law.  And,  of  course,  he  won't  look  at 
'em.  He  sees  it.  He  '11  talk  to  you.  He  takes  no 
more  notice  of  them  than  is  civil.  They  fuss  round 
him,  and  all  that,  but  they  might  save  themselves  the 
pains.  It 's  hard  lines,  Mary.  I  'm  making  money 
as  no  one  knows  on.  I  could  live  at  Enton  and  afford 
it.  But  what 's  the  good  of  it?  If  people  don't  care 
to  know  us  here,  they  won't  anywhere.  Mary,  how 
was  it  education  did  n't  work  with  them  girls?  Your 
mother  was  my  own  sister,  and  she  married  a  gentle- 
man. He  was  a  blackguard,  but  hang  it,  Mary,  if  I 
were  you  I  'd  sooner  be  penniless  and  as  you  are  than 
be  my  daughters  with  five  thousand  apiece." 

There  was  an  embarrassed  silence.  Then  Mary 
faced  the  situation  boldly. 

"  Uncle,"  she  said,  "  you  are  asking  my  advice. 
Is  that  it?" 

"  If  there 's  any  advice  you  can  give,  for  God's 
sake  let 's  have  it.  But  I  don't  know  as  you  can 
make  black  white." 

"  Selina  and  Louise  are  good  girls  enough,"  she 
said,  "  but  they  are  a  little  spoilt,  and  they  are  a 
little  limited  in  their  ideas.  A  town  like  this  often 
has  that  effect.  Take  them  abroad,  uncle,  for  a  year, 
or,  better  still,  if  you  can  find  the  right  person,  get 
a  companion  for  them  —  a  lady  —  and  let  her  live 
in  the  house." 

"  That 's  sound !  "  he  answered.    "  I  '11  do  it." 

"  And  about  their  clothes,  uncle.  Take  them  up 
to  London,  go  to  one  of  the  best  places,  and  leave 
the  people  to  make  their  things.  Don't  let  them  in- 
terfere. Down  here  they  've  got  to  choose  for  them- 


144  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

selves.  They  would  n't  care  about  taking  advice  here, 
but  in  London  they  'd  probably  be  content  to  leave  it. 
Take  them  up  to  town  for  a  fortnight.  Stay  at  one 
of  the  best  hotels,  the  Berkeley  or  the  Carlton,  and 
let  them  see  plenty  of  nice  people.  And  don't  be  dis- 
couraged, uncle." 

"  Where  the  devil  did  you  get  your  common-sense 
from  ?  "  he  inquired,  fiercely.  "  Your  mother  had  n't 
got  it,  and  I  '11  swear  your  father  had  n't." 

She  laughed  heartily. 

"  Above  all,  be  firm  with  them,  uncle,"  she  said. 
"  Put  your  foot  down,  and  stick  to  it.  They  '11  obey 
you." 

"Obey  me?  Good  Lord,  I'll  make  'em,"  Mr. 
Bullsom  declared,  vigorously.  "  Mary,  you  're  a 
brick.  I  feel  quite  cheerful.  And,  remember  this, 
my  girl.  I  shall  make  you  an  allowance,  but  that 's 
nothing.  Come  to  me  when  you  want  a  bit  extra, 
and  if  ever  the  young  man  turns  up,  then  I  've  got 
a  word  or  two  to  say.  Mind,  I  shall  only  be  giving 
you  your  own.  My  will 's  signed  and  sealed." 

She  kissed  him  fondly. 

"  You  're  a  good  sort,  uncle,"  she  said.  "  And 
now  will  you  tell  me  what  you  think  of  this  letter?  " 

"  Read  it  to  me,  dear,"  he  said.  "  My  eyes  are  n't 
what  they  were." 

She  obeyed  him. 

"41,  BUCKLESBURY,  LONDON,  E.  C. 

"  DEAR  MADAM, 

"  We  have  received  a  communication  from  our 
agents  at  Montreal,  asking  us  to  ascertain  the  where- 
abouts of  Miss  Mary  Scott,  daughter  of  Richard  Scott, 
at  one  time  a  resident  in  that  city. 


UNCLE   AND    NIECE  145 

"  We  believe  that  you  are  the  young  lady  in  question, 
and  if  you  will  do  us  the  favour  of  calling  at  the  above 
address,  we  may  be  able  to  give  you  some  information 
much  to  your  advantage. 

"  We  are,  dear  madam, 
"  Yours  respectfully, 

"  JONES  AND  LLOYD/' 

Mr.  Bullsom  stroked  his  chin  thoughtfully. 

"  Sounds  all  right,"  he  remarked.  "  Of  course 
you'll  go.  But  I  always  understood  that  your  father's 
relations  were  as  poor  as  church  mice." 

"  Poorer,  uncle !  His  father  —  my  grandfather, 
that  is  —  was  a  clergyman  with  barely  enough  to 
live  on,  and  his  uncle  was  a  Roman  Catholic  priest. 
Both  of  them  have  been  dead  for  years." 

"  And  your  father  —  well,  I  know  there  was 
nothing  there,"  Mr.  Bullsom  remarked,  thoughtfully. 

"  You  cabled  out  the  money  to  bring  me  home," 
Mary  reminded  him. 

"  Well,  well !  "  Mr.  Bullsom  declared.  "  You  must 
go  and  see  these  chaps.  There  's  no  harm  in  that,  at 
any  rate.  We  must  all  have  that  trip  to  London.  I 
expect  Brooks  will  be  wanting  to  go  and  see  Henslow. 
We  '11  have  to  give  that  chap  what  for,  I  know." 

Selina  sailed  into  the  room  in  a  salmon-coloured 
wrapper,  which  should  long  ago  have  been  relegated 
to  the  bath-room.  She  pecked  her  father  on  the  cheek 
and  nodded  to  Mary. 

"Don't  you  see  Mr.  Brooks,  dear?"  her  father 
remarked,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye  and  something 
very  much  like  a  wink  to  Mary. 

Selina  screamed,  and  looked  fearfully  around  the 
room. 

10 


146  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"What  do  you  mean,  papa?"  she  exclaimed. 
"  There  is  no  one  here." 

"  Serve  you  right  if  there  had  been,"  Mr.  Bullsom 
declared,  gruffly.  "  A  pretty  state  to  come  down  in 
the  morning  at  past  nine  o'clock." 

Selina  tossed  her  head. 

"  I  am  going  to  dress  directly  after  breakfast,"  she 
remarked. 

"  Then  if  you  '11  allow  me  to  say  so,"  her  father 
declared,  "  before  breakfast  is  the  time  to  dress,  and 
not  afterwards.  You  're  always  the  same,  Selina, 
underdressed  when  you  think  there  's  no  one  around 
to  see  you,  and  overdressed  when  there  is." 

Selina  poured  herself  out  some  coffee  and  yawned. 

"La,  papa,  what  do  you  know  about  it?"  she 
exclaimed. 

"  What  my  eyes  tell  me,"  Mr.  Bullsom  declared, 
sternly.  "  You  've  no  allowance  to  keep  to.  You  've 
leave  to  spend  what  you  want,  and  you  're  never  fit  to 
be  seen.  There  's  Mary  there  taking  thirty  pounds  a 
year  from  me,  and  won't  have  a  penny  more,  though 
she  's  heartily  welcome  to  it,  and  she  looks  a  lady  at 
any  moment  of  the  day." 

Selina  drew  herself  up,  and  her  eyes  narrowed  a 
little. 

"  You  're  talking  about  what  you  don't  understand, 
pa,"  she  answered  with  dignity.  "  If  you  prefer  Mary's 
style  of  dress  "  —  she  glanced  with  silent  disparage- 
ment at  her  cousin's  grey  skirt  and  plain  white  blouse 
—  "  well,  it 's  a  matter  of  taste,  is  n't  it?  " 

"  Taste !  "  Mr.  Bullsom  replied,  contemptuously. 
"  Taste !  What  sort  of  taste  do  you  call  that  beastly 
rug  on  your  shoulders,  eh  ?  Or  your  hair  rolled  round 


UNCLE   AND    NIECE  147 

and  just  a  pin  stuck  through  it?  Looks  as  though  it 
had  n't  been  brushed  for  a  week.  Faugh !  When 
your  mother  and  I  lived  on  two  pounds  a  week  she 
never  insulted  me  by  coming  down  to  breakfast  in 
such  a  thing." 

Selina  eyed  her  father  in  angry  astonishment. 

"  Thing  indeed !  "  she  repeated.  "  This  wrapper 
cost  me  four  guineas,  and  came  from  Paris.  That 
shows  how  much  you  know  about  it." 

"From  Paris,  did  it?"  Mr.  Bullsom  retorted, 
fiercely.  "  Then  up-stairs  you  go  and  take  it  off. 
You  girls  have  had  your  own  way  too  much,  and 
I  'm  about  tired  of  it." 

"  I  shall  change  it  —  after  breakfast,"  Selina  said, 
doubtfully. 

Mr.  Bullsom  threw  open  the  door. 

"  Up-stairs,"  he  repeated,  "  and  throw  it  into  the 
rag-bag." 

Selina  hesitated.  Then  she  rose,  and  with  scarlet 
cheeks  and  a  poor  show  of  dignity,  left  the  room. 
Mr.  Bullsom  drew  himself  up  and  beamed  upon 
Mary. 

"  I  '11  show  'em  a  bit,"  he  declared,  with  great 
good-humour.  "  I  may  be  an  ignorant  old  man,  but 
I  'm  going  to  wake  these  girls  up." 

Mary  struggled  for  a  moment,  but  her  sense  of 
humour  triumphed.  She  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Oh,  uncle,  uncle,"  she  exclaimed,  "  you  're  a 
wonderful  man." 

He  beamed  upon  her. 

"  You  come  shopping  with  us  in  London,"  he 
said.  "  We  '11  have  some  fun." 


CHAPTER    XVII 

FIFTEEN    YEARS   IN    HELL 

EALLY,"  Lady  Caroom  exclaimed,  "  Enton 
is  tne  cosiest  large  house  I  was  ever  in.  Do 
throw  that  Bradshaw  away,  Arranmore.  The  one 
•o'clock  train  will  do  quite  nicely." 

Lord  Arranmore  obeyed  her  literally.  He  jerked 
the  volume  lightly  into  a  far  corner  of  the  room  and 
came  over  to  her  side.  She  was  curled  up  in  a  huge 
easy-chair,  and  her  face  caught  by  the  glow  of  the 
dancing  firelight  almost  startled  him  by  its  youth. 
There  was  not  a  single  sign  of  middle  age  in  the 
smooth  cheeks,  not  a  single  grey  hair,  no  sign  of 
weariness  in  the  soft  full  eyes  raised  to  his. 

She  caught  his  glance  and  smiled. 

"The  firelight  is  so  becoming!"  she  murmured. 

"  Don't  go !  "  he  said. 

"My  dear  Arranmore.  The  Redcliffes  would  never 
forgive  me,  and  we  must  go  some  time." 

"  I  don't  see  the  necessity,"  he  answered,  slowly. 
"  You  like  Enton.  Make  it  your  home." 

She  raised  her  eyebrows. 

"  How  improper !  " 

"  Not  necessarily,"  he  answered.    "  Take  me  too." 

She  sat  up  in  her  chair  and  regarded  him  steadily. 

"  Am  I  to  regard  this,"  she  asked,  "  as  an  offer  of 
marriage?" 


FIFTEEN    YEARS    IN   HELL  149 

"  Well,  it  sounds  like  it,"  he  admitted. 

"  Dear  me.  You  might  have  given  me  a  little  more 
notice,"  she  said.  "  Let  me  think  for  a  moment, 
please." 

Perhaps  their  thoughts  travelled  back  in  the  same 
direction.  He  remembered  his  cousin  and  his  play- 
fellow, the  fairest  and  daintiest  girl  he  had  ever  seen, 
his  best  friend,  his  constant  companion.  He  remem- 
bered the  days  when  she  had  first  become  something 
more  to  him,  the  miseries  of  that  time,  his  hopeless 
ineligibility  —  the  separation.  Then  the  years  of 
absence,  the  terrible  branding  years  of  his  life,  the 
horrible  pit,  the  time  when  night  and  day  his  only 
prayer  had  been  the  prayer  for  death.  The  self- 
repression  of  years  seemed  to  grow  weaker  and 
weaker.  He  held  out  his  hands.  But  she  hesitated. 

"  Dear,"  she  said,  "  you  make  me  very  happy.  It 
is  wonderful  to  think  this  may  come  after  all  these 
years.  But  there  is  something  which  I  wish  to  say  to 
you  first." 

"Well?" 

"  You  are  very,  very  dear  to  me  now  —  as  you  are 
—  but  you  are  not  the  man  I  loved  years  ago.  You 
are  a  very  different  person  indeed.  Sometimes  I  am 
almost  afraid  of  you." 

"  You  have  no  cause  to  be,"  he  said.  "  Indeed,  you 
have  no  cause  to  be.  So  far  as  you  are  concerned  I 
have  never  changed.  I  am  the  same  man." 

She  took  one  of  his  hands  in  hers. 

"  Philip,"  she  said,  "  you  must  not  think  hardly  of 
me.  You  must  not  think  of  me  as  simply  afflicted 
with  the  usual  woman's  curiosity.  I  am  not  curious 
at  all.  I  would  rather  not  know.  But  remember  that 


150  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

for  nearly  twenty  years  you  passed  out  of  my  life. 
You  have  come  back  again  wonderfully  altered.  You 
do  not  wish  to  keep  the  story  of  those  years  for  ever 
a  sort  of  Bluebeard's  chamber  in  our  lives?  " 

"  Not  I,"  he  answered.  "  I  would  have  you  do  as 
I  have  done,  rip  them  out  page  and  chapter,  annihilate 
them  utterly.  What  have  they  to  do  with  the  life 
before  us?  To  you  they  would  seem  evil  enough,  to 
me  they  are  thronged  with  horrible  memories,  with 
memories  which,  could  I  take  them  with  me,  would 
poison  heaven  itself.  So  let  us  blot  them  out  for  ever. 
Come  to  me,  Catherine,  and  help  me  to  forget." 

She  looked  at  him  with  strained  eyes. 

"  Philip,"  she  said,  "  I  must  understand  you.  I 
must  understand  what  has  made  you  the  man  you 
are." 

"  Fifteen  years  in  hell  has  done  it,"  he  answered, 
fiercely.  "  Not  even  my  memory  shall  ever  take  me 
back." 

"  If  I  marry  you,"  she  said,  "  remember  that  I 
marry  your  past  as  well  as  your  future.  And  there 
are  things  —  which  need  explanation." 

"Well?" 

"  You  have  been  married." 

"  She  is  dead." 

"  You  have  a  son." 

He  reeled  as  though  he  had  been  struck,  and 
the  silence  between  them  was  as  the  silence  of 
tragedy. 

"  You  see,"  she  continued,  "  I  am  bound  to  ask  you 
to  lift  the  curtain  a  little.  Fate  or  instinct,  or  what- 
ever you  may  like  to  call  it,  has  led  me  a  little  way. 
I  am  not  afraid  to  know.  I  have  seen  too  much  of 


FIFTEEN   YEARS    IN    HELL  151 

life  to  be  a  hard  judge.  But  you  must  hold  out  your 
hand  and  take  me  a  little  further." 

"  I  cannot." 

She  held  him  tightly.     Her  voice  trembled  a  little. 

"  Dear,  you  must.  I  am  not  an  exacting  woman, 
and  I  love  you  too  well  to  be  a  hard  judge  of  anything 
you  might  have  to  tell  me.  Ignorance  is  the  only 
thing  which  I  cannot  bear.  Remember  how  greatly 
you  are  changed,  you  are  almost  a  stranger  to  me  in 
some  of  your  moods.  I  could  not  have  you  wander- 
ing off  into  worlds  of  which  I  knew  nothing.  Sit 
down  by  my  side  and  talk  to  me.  I  will  ask  no 
questions.  You  shall  tell  me  your  own  way,  and  what 
you  wish  to  leave  out  —  leave  it  out.  Come,  is  this 
so  hard  a  task  ?  " 

He  seemed  frozen  into  inanition.  His  face  was 
like  the  cast  of  a  dead  man's.  His  voice  was  cold  and 
hopeless.  \ 

11  The  key,"  he  said,  "  is  gone.  I  shall  never  seek 
for  it,  I  shall  never  find  it.  I  have  known  what 
madness  is,  and  I  am  afraid.  Shall  we  go  into  the 
hall?  I  fancy  that  they  are  serving  tea." 

She  looked  at  him,  half  terrified,  half  amazed. 

"  You  mean  this  as  final  ?  "  she  said,  deliberately. 
"  You  refuse  to  offer  any  explanation,  the  explana- 
tion which  common  decency  even  would  require  of 
these  things?  " 

"  I  expected  too  much,"  he  answered.  "  I  know  it 
very  well.  Forgive  me,  and  let  us  forget." 

She  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  I  do  not  know  that  you  will  ever  regret  this,"  she 
said.  "  I  pray  that  you  may.  .  .  ." 

To  Brooks  she  seemed  the  same  charming  woman 


152  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

as  usual,  as  he  heard  her  light  laugh  come  floating 
across  the  hall,  and  bowed  over  her  white  fingers. 
But  Sybil  saw  the  over-bright  eyes  and  nervous 
mouth  and  had  hard  work  to  keep  back  the  tears. 
She  piled  the  cushions  about  a  dark  corner  of  the 
divan,  and  chattered  away  recklessly. 

"  This  is  a  night  of  sorrows,"  she  exclaimed,  pour- 
ing out  the  tea.  "  Mr.  Brooks  and  I  were  in  the  midst 
of  a  most  affecting  leave-taking  —  when  the  tea  came. 
Why  do  these  mundane  things  always  break  in  upon 
the  most  sacred  moments?  " 

"  Life,"  Lady  Caroom  said,  helping  herself  reck- 
lessly to  muffin,  "  is  such  a  wonderful  mixture  of  the 
real  and  the  fanciful,  the  actual  and  the  sentimental, 
one  is  always  treading  on  the  heels  of  the  other.  The 
little  man  who  turns  the  handle  must  have  lots  of 
fun." 

"  If  only  he  has  a  sense  of  humour,"  Brooks 
interposed.  "  After  all,  though,  it  is  the  grisly, 
ugly  things  which  float  to  the  top.  One  has  to 
probe  always  for  the  beautiful,  and  it  requires  our 
rarest  and  most  difficult  sense  to  apprehend  the 
humorous." 

Lord  Arranmore  stirred  his  tea  slowly.  His  face 
was  like  the  face  of  a  carved  image.  Only  Brooks 
seemed  still  unconscious  of  the  shadow  which  was 
stalking  amongst  them. 

"  We  talk  of  life  so  glibly,"  he  said.  "  It  is  a  pity 
that  we  cannot  realize  its  simplest  elements.  Life  is 
purely  subjective.  Nothing  exists  except  in  our  point 
of  view.  So  we  are  continually  making  and  marring 
our  own  lives  and  the  lives  of  other  people  by  a  word, 
an  action,  a  thought." 


FIFTEEN   YEARS    IN    HELL  153 

Dear  me ! "  Lady  Caroom  murmured.  "  How- 
ever shall  I  be  able  to  play  bridge  after  tea  if  you  all 
try  to  addle  my  brain  by  paradoxes  and  subtle  sayings 
beforehand !  What  does  Arranmore  mean  ?  " 

He  put  down  his  cup. 

"  Do  not  dare  to  understand  me,"  he  said.  "  It 
is  the  most  sincere  unkindness  when  one  talks  only 
to  answer.  And  as  for  bridge  —  remember  that  this 
is  a  night  of  mourning.  Bridge  is  far  too  frivolous 
a  pursuit/' 

"Bridge  a  frivolous  pursuit?"  Sybil  exclaimed. 
"  Heavens,  what  sacrilege.  What  ought  we  to  do, 
Lord  Arranmore?  " 

"  Sit  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  and  hear  Brooks  lec- 
ture on  the  poor,"  he  answered,  lightly.  "  Brooks  is 
a  mixture  of  the  sentimentalist  and  the  hideous  pessi- 
mist, you  know,  and  it  is  the  privilege  of  his  years  to 
be  sometimes  in  earnest.  I  know  nothing  more  de- 
pressing than  to  listen  to  a  man  who  is  in  earnest." 

"  You  are  getting  positively  light-headed,"  Sybil 
laughed.  "  I  can  see  no  pleasure  in  life  save  that 
which  comes  from  an  earnest  pursuit  of  things,  good 
or  evil." 

"  My  dear  child,"  Lord  Arranmore  answered, 
"  when  you  are  a  little  older  you  will  know  that  to 
take  life  seriously  is  a  sheer  impossibility.  You  may 
think  that  you  are  doing  it,  but  you  are  not." 

"  There  must  be  exceptions,"  Sybil  declared. 

"  There  are  none,"  Lord  Arranmore  answered, 
lightly,  "  outside  the  madhouse.  For  the  realization 
of  life  comes  only  hand  in  hand  with  insanity.  The 
people  who  have  come  nearest  to  it  carry  the  mark 
with  them  all  their  life.  For  the  fever  of  knowledge 


154  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

will  scorch  even  those  who  peer  over  the  sides  of 
the  cauldron." 

Lady  Caroom  helped  herself  to  some  more  tea. 

"  Really,  Arranmore,"  she  drawled,  "  for  sheer  and 
unadulterated  pessimism  you  are  unsurpassed.  You 
must  be  a  very  morbid  person." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  One  is  always  called  morbid,"  he  remarked,  "who 
dares  to  look  towards  the  truth." 

"  There  are  people,"  Lady  Caroom  answered,  "who 
look  always  towards  the  clouds,  even  when  the  sun  is 
shining." 

"  I  am  in  the  minority,"  Lord  Arranmore  said, 
smiling.  "  I  feel  myself  becoming  isolated.  Let  us 
abandon  the  subject." 

"  No,  let  us  convert  you  instead,"  Sybil  declared. 
"  We  want  to  look  at  the  sun,  and  we  want  to  take 
you  with  us.  You  are  really  a  very  stupid  person,  you 
know.  Why  do  you  want  to  stay  all  alone  amongst 
the  shadows?  " 

Arranmore  smiled   faintly. 

"  The  sun  shines,""  he  said,  "  only  for  those  who 
have  eyes  to  see  it." 

"  Blindness  is  not  incurable,"  she  answered. 

"  Save  when  the  light  in  the  eyes  is  dead,"  he 
answered.  "  Come,  shall  we  play  a  game  at  four- 
handed  billiards?" 

It  resolved  itself  into  a  match  between  Lady 
Caroom  and  Lord  Arranmore,  who  were  both  players 
far  above  the  average.  Sybil  and  Brooks  talked,  but 
for  once  her  attention  wandered.  She  seemed  listen- 
ing to  the  click  of  the  billiard-balls,  and  watching  the 
man  and  the  woman  between  whom  all  conversation 


FIFTEEN   YEARS    IN   HELL  155 

seemed  dead.  Brooks  noticed  her  absorption,  and 
abandoned  his  own  attempts  to  interest  her. 

"  Your  mother  and  Lord  Arranmore,"  he  re- 
marked, "  are  very  old  friends." 

"  They  have  known  one  another  all  their  lives," 
she  murmured.  "  Lord  Arranmore  has  changed  a 
good  deal  though  since  his  younger  days." 

Brooks  made  no  reply.  The  girl  suddenly  bent  her 
head  towards  him. 

"  Are  you  a  judge  of  character  ?  "  she  asked. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  Scarcely.  I  have  not  had  enough  experience.  It 
is  a  fascinating  study." 

"  Very.  Now  I  want  to  ask  you  something.  What 
do  you  think  of  Lord  Arranmore?  " 

Her  tone  betokened  unusual  seriousness.  His  light 
answer  died  away  on  his  lips. 

"  It  is  very  hard  for  me  to  answer  that  question," 
he  said.  "  Lord  Arranmore  has  been  most  unnec- 
essarily kind  to  me." 

"His  character?" 

"  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  able  to  understand  it.  I 
think  that  he  is  often  wilfully  misleading.  He  does 
not  wish  to  be  understood.  He  delights  in  paradoxy 
and  moral  gymnastics." 

"  He  may  blind  your  judgment.  How  do  you  per- 
sonally feel  towards  him  ?  " 

"  That,"  he  answered,  "  might  be  misleading.  He 
has  shown  me  so  much  kindness.  Yet  I  think  —  I 
am  sure  —  that  I  liked  him  from  the  first  moment 
I  saw  him." 

She  nodded. 

"  I  like  him  too.    I  cannot  help  it.    Yet  one  can  be 


156  A   PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

with  him,  can  live  in  the  same  house  for  weeks,  even 
months,  and  remain  an  utter  stranger  to  him.  He  has 
self-repression  which  is  marvellous  —  never  at  fault 
—  never  a  joint  loose.  One  wonders  so  much  what 
lies  beyond.  One  would  like  to  know." 

"Is  it  wise?"  he  asked.  "After  all,  is  it  our 
concern  ?  " 

"  Not  ours.  But  if  you  were  a  woman  would  you 
be  content  to  take  him  on  trust?  " 

"  It  would  depend  upon  my  own  feelings,"  he 
answered,  hesitatingly. 

"Whether  you  cared  for  him?" 

"Yes!" 

She  beat  the  floor  with  her  foot. 

"  You  are  wrong,"  she  said,  "  I  am  sure  that 
you  are  wrong.  To  care  for  one  is  to  wish  ever  to 
believe  the  best  of  them.  It  is  better  to  keep  apart 
for  ever  than  to  run  any  risks.  Supposing  that 
unknown  past  was  of  evil,  and  one  discovered  it. 
To  care  for  him  would  only  make  the  suffering 
keener." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  he  admitted.  "  May  I  ask  you 
something?  " 

"Well?" 

"  You  speak  —  of  yourself?  " 

Her  eyes  met  his,  and  he  looked  hastily  downwards. 

"  Absurd,"  she  murmured,  and  inclined  her  head 
towards  the  billiard-table.  "  They  have  been  —  at- 
tached to  one  another  always.  Come  over  here  to  the 
window,  and  I  will  tell  you  something." 

They  walked  towards  the  great  circular  window 
which  overlooked  the  drive.  As  they  stood  there 
together  a  four-wheeled  cab  drove  slowly  by,  and  a 


FIFTEEN   YEARS    IN   HELL  157 

girl  leaned  forward  and  looked  at  them.  Brooks 
started  as  he  recognized  her. 

"  Why,  that  must  be  some  one  for  me,"  he  ex- 
claimed, in  a  puzzled  tone.  "  Whatever  can  have 
happened  to  old  Bullsom  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  politely  bewildered. 

"  It  is  the  niece  of  a  man  whom  I  know  very  well  in 
Medchester,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Something  must  have 
happened  to  her  uncle.  It  is  most  extraordinary." 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

MARY   SCOTT   PAYS   AN    UNEXPECTED   CALL 

BROOKS  met  the  butler  entering  the  room  with  a 
card  upon  his  salver.  He  stretched  out  his  hand 
for  it  mechanically,  but  the  man  only  regarded  him  in 
mild  surprise. 

"  For  his  lordship,  sir.    Excuse  me." 

The  man  passed  on.  Brooks  remained  bewildered. 
Lord  Arranmore  took  the  card  from  the  tray  and 
examined  it  leisurely. 

"  Miss  Mary  Scott,"  he  repeated  aloud.  "  Are  you 
sure  that  the  young  lady  asked  to  see  me?  " 

"  Quite  sure,  your  lordship,"  the  servant  answered. 

"Scott.  The  name  sounds  familiar,  somehow!" 
Lord  Arranmore  said.  "  Have  n't  I  heard  you  men- 
tion it,  Brooks?  " 

"  Miss  Scott  is  the  niece  of  Mr.  Bullsom,  one  of  my 
best  clients,  a  large  builder  in  Medchester,"  Brooks 
answered.  "  Why " 

He  stopped  suddenly  short.  Arranmore  glanced 
towards  him  in  polite  unconcern. 

"  You  saw  her  with  me  at  Mellor's,  in  Medchester. 
You  asked  me  her  name." 

Lord  Arranmore  bent  the  card  in  his  forefinger, 
and  dropped  his  eyeglass. 

"  So  that  is  the  young  lady,"  he  remarked.  "  I 
remember  her  distinctly.  But  I  do  not  understand 


AN   UNEXPECTED    CALL  159 

what  she  can  want  with  me.  Is  she  by  any  chance, 
Brooks,  one  of  those  young  persons  who  go  about 
with  a  collecting-card  —  who  want  money  for  mis- 
sions and  that  sort  of  thing?  If  so,  I  am  afraid  she 
has  wasted  her  cab  fare." 

"  She  is  not  in  the  least  that  sort  of  person,"  Brooks 
answered,  emphatically.  "  I  have  no  idea  what  she 
wants  to  see  you  about,  but  I  am  convinced  that  her 
visit  has  a  legitimate  object." 

Lord  Arranmore  stuck  the  card  in  his  waistcoat 
pocket  and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  You  are  my  man  of  affairs,  Brooks.  I  commis- 
sion you  to  see  her.  Find  out  her  business  if  you  can, 
and  don't  let  me  be  bothered  unless  it  is  necessary." 

Brooks  hesitated. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  care  to  interfere  —  that  my 
presence  might  not  be  likely  to  cause  her  embarrass- 
ment," he  said.  "  I  have  seen  her  lately,  and  she  made 
no  mention  of  this  visit." 

Lord  Arranmore  glanced  at  him  as  though 
surprised. 

"  I  should  like  you  to  see  her,"  he  said,  suavely. 
"  It  seems  to  me  preferable  to  asking  her  to  state  her 
business  to  a  servant.  If  you  have  any  objection  to 
doing  so  she  must  be  sent  back." 

Brooks  turned  unwillingly  away.  As  he  had  ex- 
pected, Mary  sprang  to  her  feet  upon  his  entrance  into 
the  room,  and  the  colour  streamed  into  her  cheeks. 

"You  here!"  she  exclaimed. 

He  shook  hands  with  her,  and  tried  to  behave  as 
though  he  thought  her  presence  the  most  natural  thing 
in  the  world. 

"  Yes.    You  see  I  am  Lord  Arranmore's  man  of 


160  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

affairs  now,  and  he  keeps  me  pretty  hard  at  work. 
He  seems  to  have  a  constitutional  objection  to  doing 
anything  for  himself.     He  has  even  sent  me  to  - 
to " 

"  I  understand,"  she  interrupted.  "  To  ascertain 
my  business.  Well,  I  can't  tell  it  even  to  you.  It  is 
Lord  Arranmore  whom  I  want  to  see.  No  one  else 
will  do." 

Brooks  leaned  against  the  table  and  looked  at  her 
with  a  puzzled  smile. 

"You  see,  it's  a  little  awkward,  isn't  it?"  he 
declared.  "  Lord  Arranmore  is  very  eccentric,  and 
especially  so  upon  this  point.  He  will  not  see  stran- 
gers. Write  him  a  line  or  two  and  let  me  take  it 
to  him." 

She  considered  for  a  moment. 

"  Very  well.  Give  me  a  piece  of  paper  and  an 
envelope." 

She  wrote  a  single  line  only.  Brooks  took  it  back 
into  the  great  inner  hall,  where  Lord  Arranmore  had 
started  another  game  of  billiards  with  Lady  Caroom. 

"  Miss  Scott  assured  me  that  her  business  with  you 
is  private,"  he  announced.  "  She  has  written  this 
note." 

Lord  Arranmore  laid  his  cue  deliberately  aside  and 
broke  the  seal.  It  was  evident  that  the  contents  of 
the  note  consisted  of  a  few  words  only,  yet  after 
once  perusing  them  he  moved  a  little  closer  to  the 
light  and  re-read  them  slowly.  Then  with  a  little 
sigh  he  folded  the  note  in  the  smallest  possible  com- 
pass and  thrust  it  into  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

"  Your  young  friend,  my  dear  Brooks,"  he  said, 
taking  up  his  cue,  "  does  me  the  honour  to  mistake 


AN   UNEXPECTED   CALL  161 

me  for  some  one  else.  Will  you  inform  her  that  I 
have  no  knowledge  of  the  person  to  whom  she  alludes, 
and  suggest  —  as  delicately  as  you  choose  —  that  as 
she  is  mistaken  an  interview  is  unnecessary.  It  is, 
I  believe,  my  turn,  Catherine." 

"  You  decline,  then,  to  see  her?  "  Brooks  said. 

Lord  Arranmore  turned  upon  him  with  a  rare 
irritation. 

"Have  I  not  made  myself  clear,  Brooks?"  he 
said.  "  If  I  were  to  keep  open  house  to  all  the  young 
women  who  choose  to  claim  acquaintance  with  me  I 
should  scarcely  have  a  moment  to  call  my  own,  or  a 
house  fit  to  ask  my  friends  to  visit.  Be  so  good  as 
to  make  my  answer  sufficiently  explicit." 

"  It  is  unnecessary,  Lord  Arranmore.  I  have  come 
to  ask  you  for  it  yourself." 

They  all  turned  round.  Mary  Scott  was  coming 
slowly  towards  them  across  the  thick  rugs,  into  which 
her  feet  sunk  noiselessly.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  and 
her  large  eyes  were  full  of  nervous  apprehension. 
But  about  her  mouth  were  certain  rigid  lines  which 
spoke  of  determination. 

Sybil  leaned  forward  from  her  chair,  and  Lady 
Caroom  watched  her  approach  with  lifted  eyebrows 
and  a  stare  of  well-bred  and  languid  insolence.  Lord 
Arranmore  laid  down  his  cue  and  rose  at  once  to 
meet  her. 

"  You  are  Lord  Arranmore,"  she  said,  looking  at 
him  fixedly.  "  Will  you  please  answer  the  question 
—  in  my  note?  " 

He  bowed  a  little  coldly,  but  he  made  no  remark 
as  to  her  intrusion. 

"  I  have  already,"  he  said,  "  given  my  answer  to 


162  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Mr.  Brooks.  The  name  which  you  mention  is  al- 
together unknown  to  me,  nor  have  I  ever  visited  the 
place  you  speak  of.  You  have  apparently  been  mis- 
led by  a  chance  likeness." 

"  It  is  a  very  wonderful  one,"  she  said,  slowly, 
keeping  her  eyes  fixed  upon  him. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  regret,"  he  said,  "  that  you  should  have  had 
your  journey  for  nothing.  I  can,  I  presume,  be  of 
no  further  use  to  you." 

"  I  do  not  regret  my  journey  here,"  she  answered. 
"  I  could  not  rest  until  I  had  seen  you  closely,  face 
to  face,  and  asked  you  that  question.  You  deny  then 
that  you  were  ever  called  Philip  Ferringshaw  ?  " 

"  Most  assuredly,"  he  answered,  curtly. 

"  That  is  very  strange,"  she  said. 

"Strange?" 

"  Yes.  It  is  very  strange  because  I  am  perfectly 
certain  that  you  were." 

He  took  up  his  cue  and  commenced  chalking  it  in 
a  leisurely  manner. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  he  said,  "  you  are,  I  under- 
stand, a  friend  of  Mr.  Brooks,  and  are  therefore 
entitled  to  some  amount  of  consideration  from  me. 
But  I  must  respectfully  remind  you  that  your  presence 
here  is,  to  put  it  mildly,  unsought,  and  that  I  do  not 
find  it  pleasant  to  be  called  a  liar  under  my  own  roof 
and  before  my  friends." 

"  Pleasant !  "  she  eyed  him  scornfully ;  "  nor  did 
my  father  find  it  pleasant  to  be  ruined  and  murdered 
by  you,  a  debauched  gambler,  a  common  swindler." 

Lord  Arranmore,  unruffled,  permitted  himself  to 
smile. 


AN   UNEXPECTED   CALL  163 

"  Dear  me,"  he  said,  "  this  is  getting  positively 
melodramatic.  Brooks,  for  her  own  sake,  let  me  beg 
of  you  to  induce  the  young  woman  to  leave  us.  In 
her  calmer  moments  she  will,  I  am  sure,  repent  of 
these  unwarranted  statements  to  a  perfect  stranger." 

Brooks  was  numbed  —  for  the  moment  speechless. 
Sybil  had  risen  to  her  feet  as  though  with  the  inten- 
tion of  leaving  the  room.  But  Lord  Arranmore  inter- 
posed. If  he  were  acting  it  was  marvellously  done. 

"  I  beg,"  he  said,  "  that  you  will  none  of  you  desert 
me.  These  accusations  of  —  Miss  Scott,  I  believe  — 
are  unnerving.  A  murderer,  a  swindler  and  a  rogue 
are  hard  names,  young  lady.  May  I  ask  if  your 
string  of  invectives  is  exhausted,  or  is  there  any 
further  abuse  which  you  feel  inclined  to  heap  upon 
me?" 

The  girl  never  flinched. 

"  I  have  called  you  nothing,"  she  said,  "  which  you 
do  not  deserve.  Do  you  still  deny  that  you  were  in 
Canada  —  in  Montreal  —  sixteen  years  ago?" 

"  Most  assuredly  I  do  deny  it,"  he  answered. 

Brooks  started,  and  turned  suddenly  towards  Lord 
Arranmore  as  though  doubtful  whether  he  had  heard 
rightly.  This  was  a  year  before  his  father's  death. 
The  girl  was  unmoved. 

"  I  see  that  I  should  come  here  with  proofs,"  she 
exclaimed.  "  Well,  they  are  easy  enough  to  collect. 
You  shall  have  them.  But  before  I  go,  Lord  Arran- 
more, let  me  ask  you  if  you  know  who  I  am." 

"  I  understand,"  Lord  Arranmore  answered,  "  that 
you  are  the  daughter  or  niece  of  a  highly  respectable 
tradesman  in  Medchester,  who  is  a  client  of  our  young 
friend  here,  Mr.  Brooks.  Let  me  tell  you,  young 


164  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

lady,  that  but  for  that  fact  I  should  not  —  tolerate 
your  presence  here." 

"  I  am  Mr.  Bullsom's  niece,"  the  girl  answered, 
"  but  I  am  the  daughter  of  Martin  Scott  Cartnell !  " 

It  seemed  to  Brooks  that  a  smothered  exclamation 
of  some  sort  broke  from  Lord  Arranmore's  tightly- 
compressed  lips,  but  his  face  was  so  completely  in  the 
shadow  that  its  expression  was  lost.  But  he  himself 
now  revealed  it,  for  touching  a  knob  in  the  wall  a 
shower  of  electric  lamps  suddenly  glowed  around  the 
room.  He  leaned  forward  and  looked  intently  into 
the  face  of  the  girl  who  had  become  his  accuser.  She 
met  his  gaze  coldly,  without  flinching,  the  pallor  of 
her  cheeks  relieved  by  a  single  spot  of  burning  colour, 
her  eyes  bright  with  purpose. 

"  It  is  incredible,"  he  said,  softly,  "  but  it  is  true. 
You  are  the  untidy  little  thing  with  a  pigtail  who  used 
always  to  be  playing  games  with  the  boys  when  you 
ought  to  have  been  at  school.  Come,  I  am  glad  to 
see  you.  Why  do  you  come  to  me  like  a  Cassandra 
of  the  Family  Herald?  Your  father  was  my  com- 
panion for  a  while,  but  we  were  never  intimate.  I 
certainly  neither  robbed  nor  murdered  him." 

"  You  did  both,"  she  answered,  fiercely.  "  You 
were  his  evil  genius  from  the  first.  It  was  through 
you  he  took  to  drink,  through  you  he  became  a  gam- 
bler. You  encouraged  him  to  play  for  stakes  larger 
than  he  could  afford.  You  won  money  from  him 
which  you  knew  was  not  his  to  lose.  He  came  to 
you  for  help.  You  laughed  at  him.  That  night  he 
shot  himself." 

"  It  was,"  Lord  Arranmore  remarked,  "  a  very 
foolish  thing  to  do." 


AN    UNEXPECTED    CALL  165 

"  Who  or  what  you  were  before  you  came  to  Mon- 
treal I  do  not  know,"  she  continued,  "  but  there  you 
brought  misery  and  ruin  upon  every  one  connected 
with  you.  I  was  a  child  in  those  days,  but  I  remember 
how  you  were  hated.  You  broke  the  heart  of  Durran 
Lapage,  an  honest  man  whom  you  called  your  friend, 
and  you  left  his  wife  to  starve  in  a  common  lodging- 
house.  There  was  never  a  man  or  woman  who 
showed  you  kindness  that  did  not  live  to  regret  it. 
You  may  be  the  Marquis  of  Arranmore  now,  but  you 
have  left  a  life  behind  the  memory  of  which  should 
be  a  constant  torture  to  you." 

"Have  you  finished,  young  lady?"  he  asked,  coldly. 

"  Yes,  I  have  finished,"  she  answered.  "  I  pray 
Heaven  that  the  next  time  we  meet  may  be  in  the 
police-court.  The  police  of  Montreal  are  still  looking 
for  Philip  Ferringshaw,  and  they  will  find  in  me  a 
very  ready  witness." 

"  Upon  my  word,  this  is  a  most  unpleasant  young 
person,"  Lord  Arranmore  said.  "  Brooks,  do  see  her 
off  the  premises  before  she  changes  her  mind  and 
comes  for  me  again.  You  have,  I  hope,  been  enter- 
tained, ladies,"  he  added,  turning  to  Sybil  and  Lady 
Caroom. 

He  eyed  them  carelessly  enough  to  all  appearance, 
yet  with  an  inward  searchingness  which  seemed  to 
find  what  it  feared.  He  turned  to  Brooks,  but  he  and 
Mary  Scott  had  left  the  room  together. 

"The  girl — was  terribly  in  earnest,"  Lady  Caroom 
said,  with  averted  eyes.  "  Were  you  not  —  a  little 
cruel  to  her,  Arranmore?  Not  that  I  believe  these 
horrid  things,  of  course.  But  she  did.  She  was 
honest." 


166  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Lord  Arranmore  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  was 
looking  out  of  the  window,  out  into  the  grey  windy 
darkness,  listening  to  the  raindrops  splashing  against 
the  window-pane,  wondering  how  long  Brooks  would 
be,  and  if  in  his  face  too  he  should  see  the  shadow, 
and  it  seemed  to  him  that  Brooks  lingered  a  very  long 
time. 

"  Shall  we  finish  our  game  of  billiards,  Catherine?  " 
he  asked,  turning  towards  her. 

"  Well  —  I  think  not,"  she  answered.  "  I  am  a 
little  tired,  and  it  is  almost  time  the  dressing-bell 
rang.  I  think  Sybil  and  I  will  go  up-stairs." 

They  passed  away  —  he  made  no  effort  to  detain 
them.  He  lit  a  cigarette,  and  paced  the  room  im- 
patiently. At  last  he  rang  the  bell. 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Brooks?  "  he  asked. 

"  Mr.  Brooks  has  only  just  returned,  my  lord,"  the 
man  answered.  "  He  went  some  distance  with  the 
young  lady.  He  has  gone  direct-  to  his  room." 

Lord  Arranmore  nodded.  He  threw  himself  into 
his  easy-chair,  and  his  head  sank  upon  his  hand.  He 
looked  steadfastly  into  the  heart  of  the  red  coals. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE   MARQUIS    MEPHISTOPHELES 

"  T  AM  so  sorry,"  she  said,  softly,  "our  last  evening 

J.    is  spoilt." 

He  shook  his  head  with  an  effort  at  gaiety. 

"  Let  us  conspire,"  he  said.  "  You  and  I  at  least 
will  make  a  struggle." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  said,  "  that  it  would  be  hope- 
less. Mother  is  an  absolute  wreck,  and  I  saw  Lord 
Arranmore  go  into  the  library  just  now  with  that 
terrible  white  look  under  his  eyes.  I  saw  it  once 
before.  Ugh!" 

"  After  all,"  he  said,  "  it  only  means  that  we 
shall  be  honest.  Cheerfulness  to-night  could  only  be 
forced." 

She  laughed  softly  into  his  eyes. 

"  How  correct !  "  she  murmured.  "  You  are  im- 
proving fast." 

He  turned  and  looked  at  her,  slim  and  graceful  in 
her  white  muslin  gown,  her  fair  hair  brushed  back 
from  her  forehead  with  a  slight  wave,  but  drooping 
low  over  her  ears,  a  delicate  setting  for  her  piquant 
face.  The  dark  brown  eyes,  narrowing  a  little 
towards  the  lids,  met  his  with  frank  kindliness,  her 
mouth  quivered  a  little  as  though  with  the  desire  to 
break  away  into  a  laugh.  The  slight  duskiness  of 
her  cheeks  —  she  had  lived  for  three  years  in  Italy 


i68 

and  never  worn  a  veil  —  pleased  him  better  than  the 
insipidity  of  pink  and  white,  and  the  absence  of 
jewelry  —  she  wore  neither  bracelet  nor  rings  — 
gave  her  an  added  touch  of  distinction,  which  rest- 
less youth  finds  something  so  much  harder  to  wear 
than  sedate  middle  age.  The  admiration  grew  in 
his  eyes.  She  was  charming. 

The  lips  broke  away  at  last. 

"  After  all,"  she  murmured,  "  I  think  that  I  shall 
enjoy  myself  this  evening.  You  are  looking  all  sorts 
of  nice  things  at  me." 

"  My  eyes,"  he  answered,  "  are  more  daring  than 
my  lips." 

"  And  you  call  yourself  a  lawyer  ?  " 

"Is  that  a  challenge?  Well,  I  was  thinking  that 
you  looked  charming." 

"  Is  that  all  ?    I  have  a  looking-glass,  you  know." 

"  And  I  shall  miss  you  —  very  much." 

"Ah!" 

She  suddenly  avoided  his  eyes,  but  it  was  for  a 
second  only.  Yet  Brooks  was  himself  conscious  of 
the  significance  of  that  second.  He  set  his  teeth  hard. 

"  The  days  here,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  have  been  very 
pleasant.  It  has  all  been  —  such  a  different  life  for 
me.  A  few  months  ago  I  knew  no  one  except  a  few 
of  the  Medchester  people,  and  was  working  hard  to 
make  a  modest  living.  Sometimes  I  feel  here  as 
though  I  were  a  modern  Aladdin.  There  is  a  sense 
of  unreality  about  Lord  Arranmore's  extraordinary 
kindness  to  me.  To-night,  more  than  ever,  I  cannot 
help  feeling  that  it  is  something  like  a  dream  which 
may  pass  away  at  any  moment." 

She  looked  at  him  thoughtfully. 


THE   MARQUIS    MEPHISTOPHELES     169 

"  Lord  Arranmore  is  not  an  impulsive  person," 
she  said.  "  He  must  have  had  some  reason  for  be- 
ing so  decent  to  you." 

"  Yes,  as  regards  the  management  of  his  affairs 
perhaps,"  Brooks  answered.  "  But  why  he  should 
ask  me  here,  and  treat  me  as  though  I  were  his 
social  equal  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  —  well,  you 
know  that  is  a  puzzle,  isn't  it?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  she  answered.  "  Lord 
Arranmore  is  not  exactly  the  man  to  be  a  slave  to, 
or  even  to  respect,  the  conventional,  and  your  being 
—  what  you  are,  naturally  makes  you  a  pleasant  com- 
panion to  him  —  and  his  guests.  No,  I  don't  think 
that  it  is  strange." 

"  You  are  very  flattering,"  he  said,  smiling. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  she  assured  him.  "  Now-a- 
days  birth  seems  to  be  rather  a  handicap  than  other- 
wise to  the  making  of  the  right  sort  of  people.  I 
am  sure  there  are  more  impossibilities  in  the  peerage 
than  in  the  nowueaux  riches.  I  know  heaps  of  people 
who  because  their  names  are  in  Debrett  seem  to  think 
that  manners  are  unnecessary,  and  that  they  have  a 
sort  of  God-sent  title  to  gentility." 

Brooks  laughed. 

"  Why,"  he  said,  "  you  are  more  than  half  a 
Radical." 

"  It  is  your  influence,"  she  said,  demurely. 

"  It  will  soon  pass  away,"  he  sighed.  "To-morrow 
you  will  be  back  again  amongst  your  friends." 

She  sighed. 

"  Why  do  one's  friends  bore  one  so  much  more 
than  other  people's  ? "  she  exclaimed. 

"  When  one  thinks  of  it,"  he  remarked,  "  you  must 


170  A   PRINCE   OF.   SINNERS 

have  been  very  bored  here.  Why,  for  the  last  fort- 
night there  have  been  no  other  visitors  in  the  house." 

"  There  have  been  compensations,"  she  said. 

"  Tell  me  about  them !  "  he  begged. 

She  laughed  up  at  him. 

"  If  I  were  to  say  the  occasional  visits  of  Mr. 
Kingston  Brooks,  would  you  be  conceited  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  like  putting  my  vanity  in  a  hothouse," 
he  answered,  "  but  I  would  try  and  bear  it." 

"Well,  I  will  say  it,  then!" 

He  turned  and  looked  at  her  with  a  sudden  serious- 
ness. Some  consciousness  of  the  change  in  his  mood 
seemed  to  be  at  once  communicated  to  her.  Her  eyes 
no  longer  met  his.  She  moved  a  little  on  one  side 
and  took  up  an  ornament  from  an  ormolu  table. 

"  I  wish  that  you  meant  it,"  he  murmured. 

"I  do!"  she  whispered,  almost  under  her  breath. 

Brooks  suddenly  forgot  many  things,  but  Nemesis 
intervened.  There  was  the  sound  of  much  rustling 
of  silken  skirts,  and  Lady  Caroom's  poodle,  followed 
by  herself,  came  round  the  angle  of  the  drawing-room. 

"  My  dear  Sybil,"  she  exclaimed,  "  do  come  and 
tie  Balfour's  ribbon  for  me.  Marie  has  no  idea  of 
making  a  bow  spread  itself  out,  and  pink  is  so  becom- 
ing to  him.  Thanks,  dear.  Where  is  our  host?  I 
thought  that  I  was  late." 

Lord  Arranmore  entered  as  she  spoke.  His  evening 
dress,  as  usual,  was  of  the  most  severely  simple  type. 
To-night  its  sombreness  was  impressive.  With  such 
a  background  his  pallor  seemed  almost  waxen-like. 
He  offered  his  arm  to  Lady  Caroom. 

"  I  was  not  sure,"  he  said,  with  a  lightness  which 
seemed  natural  enough,  "  whether  to-night  I  might 


THE   MARQUIS   MEPHISTOPHELES     171 

not  have  to  dine  alone  whilst  you  poor  people  sat 
and  played  havoc  with  the  shreds  of  my  reputation. 
Groves,  the  cabinet  Johannesburg  and  the  '84  Heid- 
sieck  —  though  I  am  afraid,"  he  added,  looking  down 
at  his  companion,  "  that  not  all  the  wine  in  my  cellar 
could  make  this  feast  of  farewells  a  cheerful  one." 

"  Farewell  celebrations  of  all  sorts  are  such  a  mis- 
take," Lady  Caroom  murmured.  "  We  have  been 
so  happy  here  too." 

"  You  brought  the  happiness  with  you,"  Lord 
Arranmore  said,  "  and  you  take  it  away  with  you. 
Enton  will  be  a  very  dull  place  when  you  are 
gone." 

"Your  own  stay  here  is  nearly  up,  is  it  not?" 
Lady  Caroom  asked. 

"  Very  nearly.  I  expect  to  go  to  Paris  next  week 
—  at  latest  the  week  after,  in  time  at  any  rate  for 
Bernhardt's  new  play.  So  I  suppose  we  shall  soon 
all  be  scattered  over  the  face  of  the  earth." 

"  Except  me,"  Brooks  interposed,  ruefully.  "  I 
shall  be  the  one  who  will  do  the  vegetating." 

Lady  Caroom  laughed  softly. 

"  Foolish  person !  You  will  be  within  two  hours 
of  London.  You  none  of  you  have  the  slightest  idea 
as  to  the  sort  of  place  we  are  going  to.  We  are  a 
day's  journey  from  anywhere.  The  morning  papers 
are  twenty-four  hours  late.  The  men  drink  port 
wine,  and  the  women  sit  round  the  fire  in  the  draw- 
ing-room after  dinner  and  wait  —  and  wait  —  and 
wait.  Oh,  that  awful  waiting.  I  know  it  so  well. 
And  it  is  n't  much  better  when  the  men  do  come. 
They  play  whist  instead  of  bridge,  and  a  woman  in 
the  billiard-room  is  a  lost  soul.  Our  hostess  always 


172  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

hides  my  cue  directly  I  arrive,  and  pretends  that  it 
has  been  lost.  By  the  bye,  what  a  dear  little  room 
this  is,  Arranmore.  We  haven't  dined  here  before, 
have  we?  " 

Lord  Arranmore  shook  his  head.  He  held  up  his 
wineglass  thoughtfully  as  though  criticizing  the  clear- 
ness of  the  amber  fluid. 

"  No !  "  he  said.  "  I  ordered  dinner  to  be  served 
in  here  because  over  our  dessert  I  propose  to  offer 
you  a  novel  form  of  entertainment." 

"  How  wonderful,"  Sybil  said.  "  Will  it  be  very 
engrossing?  Will  it  help  us  to  forget?" 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  smile. 

"  That  depends,"  he  said,  "  how  anxious  you  are 
to  forget." 

She  looked  hastily  away.  For  a  moment  Brooks 
met  her  eyes,  and  his  heart  gave  an  unusual  leap. 
Lady  Caroom  watched  them  both  thoughtfully,  and 
then  turned  to  their  host. 

"  You  have  excited  our  curiosity,  Arranmore.  You 
surely  don't  propose  to  keep  us  on  tenterhooks  all 
through  dinner?  " 

"  It  will  give  a  fillip  to  your  appetite." 

"  My  appetite  needs  no  fillip.  It  is  disgraceful  to 
try  and  make  me  eat  more  than  I  do  already.  I  am 
getting  hideously  stout.  I  found  my  maid  in  tears 
to-night  because  I  positively  could  not  get  into  my 
most  becoming  bodice." 

"  If  you  possess  a  more  becoming  one  than  this," 
Lord  Arranmore  said,  with  a  bow,  "  it  is  well  for 
our  peace  of  mind  that  you  cannot  wear  it." 

"  That  is  a  very  pretty  subterfuge,  but  a  subter- 
fuge it  remains,"  Lady  Caroom  answered.  "  Now 


THE  MARQUIS   MEPHISTOPHELES      173 

be  candid.  I  love  candour.  "What  are  you  going  to 
do  to  amuse  us  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  Do  not  spoil  my  effect.  The  slightest  hint  would 
make  everything  seem  tame.  Brooks,  I  insist  upon 
it  that  you  try  my  Johannesburg.  It  was  given  to 
my  grandfather  by  the  Grand  Duke  of  Shleistein. 
Groves !  " 

Brooks  submitted  willingly  enough,  for  the  wine 
was  wonderful.  Sybil  leaned  over  so  that  their  heads 
almost  touched. 

"  Look  at  our  host,"  she  whispered.  "  What  does 
he  remind  you  of  ?  " 

Brooks  glanced  across  the  table,  brilliant  with  its 
burden  of  old  silver,  of  cut-glass  and  hothouse  flowers. 
Lord  Arranmore's  face,  notwithstanding  his  ready 
flow  of  conversation,  seemed  unusually  still  and 
white  —  the  skin  drawn  across  the  bones,  even  the 
lips  pallid.  The  sombreness  of  his  costume,  the 
glitter  in  his  eyes,  the  icy  coldness  of  his  lack  of 
colouring,  though  time  after  time  he  set  down  his 
wineglass  empty,  were  curiously  impressive.  Brooks 
looked  back  into  her  face,  his  eyes  full  of  question. 

"  Mephistopheles,"  she  whispered.  "  He  is  abso- 
lutely weird  to-night.  If  he  sat  and  looked  at  me 
and  we  were  alone  I  should  shriek." 

Lord  Arranmore  lifted  a  glass  of  champagne  to 
the  level  of  his  head  and  looked  thoughtfully  around 
the  table. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "a  toast — to  ourselves.  Singly? 
Collectively.  Lady  Caroom,  I  drink  to  the  delightful 
memories  with  which  you  have  peopled  Enton.  Sybil, 
may  you  charm  society  as  your  mother  has  done. 


174  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Brooks,  your  very  good  health.  May  your  entertain- 
ment this  evening  be  a  welcome  one." 

"  We  will  drink  to  all  those  things,"  Lady  Caroom 
declared,  "  with  enthusiasm.  But  I  am  afraid  your 
good  wishes  for  Sybil  are  beyond  any  hope  of  real- 
ization. She  is  far  too  honest  to  flourish  in  society. 
She  will  probably  marry  a  Bishop  or  a  Cabinet  Min- 
ister, and  become  engrossed  in  theology  or  politics. 
You  know  how  limiting  that  sort  of  thing  is.  I  am 
in  deadly  fear  that  she  may  become  humdrum.  A 
woman  who  really  studies  or  knows  anything  about 
anything  can  never  be  a  really  brilliant  woman." 

"You " 

"  Oh,  I  pass  for  being  intelligent  because  I  parade 
my  ignorance  so,  just  as  Sophie  Mills  is  considered 
a  paragon  of  morality  because  she  is  always  talking 
about  running  off  with  one  of  the  boys  in  her  hus- 
band's regiment.  It  is  a  gigantic  bluff,  you  know, 
but  it  comes  off.  Most  bluffs  do  come  off  if  one 
is  only  daring  enough." 

"  You  must  tell  them  that  up  at  Redcliffe,"  Lord 
Arranmore  remarked. 

Sybil  laughed  heartily. 

"  Redcliffe  is  the  one  place  where  mother  is  dumb," 
she  declared.  "  Up  there  they  look  upon  her  as  a 
stupid  but  well-meaning  person.  She  is  absolutely 
afraid  to  open  her  mouth." 

"  They  are  so  absurdly  literal,"  Lady  Caroom 
sighed,  helping  herself  to  an  infinitesimal  portion  of 
a  wonderful  savoury.  "  Don't  talk  about  the  place. 
I  know  I  shall  have  an  attack  of  nerves  there." 

"  Mother  always  gets  nerves  if  she  may  n't  talk/' 
Sybil  murmured. 


THE   MARQUIS    MEPH1STOPHELES     175 

"  You  're  an  undutiful  daughter,"  Lady  Caroom 
declared.  "  If  I  do  talk  I  never  say  anything,  so 
nobody  need  listen  unless  they  like.  About  this  enter- 
tainment, Arranmore.  Are  you  going  to  make  the 
wineglass  disappear  and  the  apples  fly  about  the  room 
a  la  Maskelyne  and  Cook?  I  hope  our  share  in  it 
consists  in  sitting  down." 

Arranmore  turned  to  the  butler  behind  his  chair. 

"  Have  coffee  and  liqueur  served  here,  Groves,  and 
bring  some  cigarettes.  Then  you  can  send  the  ser- 
vants away  and  leave  us  alone." 

The  man  bowed. 

"  Very  good,  your  lordship." 

Lord  Arranmore  looked  around  at  his  guests. 

"  The  entertainment,"  he  said,  "  will  incur  no 
greater  hardship  upon  you  than  a  little  patience.  I 
am  going  to  tell  you  a  story." 


CHAPTER   XX 

THE   CONFIDENCE   OF   LORD   ARRANMORE 

THE  servants  had  left  the  room,  and  the  doors 
were  fast  closed.  Lord  Arranmore  sat  a  little 
forward  in  his  high-backed  chair,  one  hand  grasping 
the  arm,  the  other  stretched  flat  upon  the  table  before 
him.  By  his  side,  neglected,  was  a  cedar-wood  box 
of  his  favourite  cigarettes. 

"I  am  going,"  he  said,  thoughtfully,  "  to  tell  you 
a  story,  of  whom  the  hero  is  —  myself.  A  poor  sort 
of  entertainment  perhaps,  but  then  there  is  a  little 
tragedy  and  a  little  comedy  in  what  I  have  to  tell. 
And  you  three  are  the  three  people  in  the  world  to 
whom  certain  things  were  better  told." 

They  bent  forward,  fascinated  by  the  cold  direct- 
ness of  his  speech,  by  the  suggestion  of  strange  things 
to  come.  The  mask  of  their  late  gaiety  had  fallen 
away.  Lady  Caroom,  grave  and  sad-eyed,  was  listen- 
ing with  an  anxiety  wholly  unconcealed.  Under  the 
shaded  lamplight  their  faces,  dominated  by  that  cold 
masterly  figure  at  the  head  of  the  table,  were  almost 
Rembrandtesque. 

"  You  have  heard  a  string  of  incoherent  but  suffi- 
ciently damaging  accusations  made  against  me  to-day 
by  a  young  lady  whose  very  existence,  I  may  say,  was 
a  surprise  to  me.  It  suited  me  then  to  deny  them. 
Nevertheless  they  were  in  the  main  true." 


The  announcement  was  no  shock.  Every  one  of 
the  three  curiously  enough  had  believed  the  girl. 

"  I  must  go  a  little  further  back  than  the  time  of 
which  she  spoke.  At  twenty-six  years  old  I  was  an 
idle  young  man  of  good  family,  but  scant  expecta- 
tions, supposed  to  be  studying  at  the  Bar,  but  in 
reality  idling  my  time  about  town.  In  those  days, 
Lady  Caroom,  you  had  some  knowledge  of  me." 

"  Up  to  the  time  of  your  disappearance  —  yes.  I 
remember,  Arranmore,"  she  continued,  her  manner 
losing  for  a  moment  some  of  its  restraint,  and  her 
eyes  and  tone  suddenly  softening,  "  dancing  with  you 
that  evening.  We  arranged  to  meet  at  Ranelagh  the 
next  day,  and,  when  the  next  day  came,  you  had 
vanished,  gone  as  completely  as  though  the  earth  had 
swallowed  you  up.  For  weeks  every  one  was  asking 
what  has  become  of  him.  And  then  —  I  suppose  — 
you  were  forgotten." 

"  This,"  Lord  Arranmore  continued,  "  is  the  hard- 
est part  of  my  narrative,  the  hardest  because  the  most 
difficult  to  make  you  understand.  You  will  forgive 
my  offering  you  the  bare  facts  only.  I  will  remind 
you  that  I  was  young,  impressionable,  and  had  views. 
So  to  continue !  " 

The  manner  of  his  speech  was  in  its  way  chillingly 
impressive.  He  was  still  sitting  in  exactly  the  same 
position,  one  hand  upon  the  arm  of  his  high-backed 
chair,  the  other  upon  the  table  before  him.  He  made 
use  of  no  gestures,  his  face  remained  as  white  and 
emotionless  as  a  carved  image,  his  tone,  though  clear 
and  low,  was  absolutely  monotonous.  But  there  was 
about  him  a  subtle  sense  of  repression  apparent  to  all 
of  them. 

12 


178  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  On  my  way  home  that  night  my  hansom 
knocked  down  an  old  man.  He  was  not  seriously 
hurt,  and  I  drove  him  home.  On  the  way  he  stared 
at  me  curiously.  Every  now  and  then  he  laughed 
—  unpleasantly. 

"  '  I  have  never  seen  any  one  out  of  your  world 
before/  he  said.  '  I  dare  say  you  have  never  spoken 
to  any  one  out  of  mine  except  to  toss  us  alms.  Come 
and  see  where  I  live.' 

"  He  insisted,  and  I  went.  I  found  myself  in  a 
lodging-house,  now  pulled  down  and  replaced  by  one 
of  Lord  Rowton's  tenement  houses.  I  saw  a  hun- 
dred human  beings  more  or  less  huddled  together 
promiscuously,  and  the  face  of  every  one  of  them 
was  like  the  face  of  a  rat.  The  old  man  dragged 
me  from  room  to  room,  laughing  all  the  time.  He 
showed  me  children  herded  together  without  distinc- 
tion of  sex  or  clothing,  here  and  there  he  pointed 
to  a  face  where  some  apprehension  of  the  light  was 
fighting  a  losing  battle  with  the  ghouls  of  disease, 
of  vice,  of  foul  air,  of  filth.  I  was  faint  and  giddy 
when  we  had  looked  over  that  one  house,  but  the  old 
man  was  not  satisfied.  He  dragged  me  on  to  the 
roof  and  pointed  eastwards.  There,  as  far  as  the 
eyes  could  reach,  was  a  blackened  wilderness  of 
smoke-begrimed  dwellings.  He  looked  at  me  and 
grinned.  I  can  see  him  now.  He  had  only  one 
tooth,  a  blackened  yellow  stump,  and  every  time  he 
opened  his  mouth  to  laugh  he  was  nearly  choked 
with  coughing.  He  leaned  out  over  the  palisading 
and  reached  with  both  his  arms  eastward. 

" '  There,'  he  cried,  frantically,  '  you  have  seen 
one.  There  are  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S    CONFIDENCE    179 

houses  like  this,  a  million  crawling  vermin  who  were 
born  into  the  world  in  your  likeness,  as  you  were 
born,  my  fine  gentleman.  Day  by  day  they  wake 
in  their  holes,  fill  their  lungs  with  foul  air,  their 
stomachs  with  rotten  food,  break  their  backs  and 
their  hearts  over  some  hideous  task.  Every  day  they 
drop  a  little  lower  down.  Drink  alone  keeps  them 
alive,  stirs  their  blood  now  and  then  so  that  they  can 
feel  their  pulses  beat,  brings  them  a  blessed  stupor. 
And  see  over  there  the  sun,  God's  sun,  rises  every 
morning,  over  them  and  you.  Young  man !  You  see 
those  flaring  spots  of  light?  They  are  gin-palaces. 
You  may  thank  your  God  for  them,  for  they  alone 
keep  this  horde  of  rotten  humanity  from  sweeping 
westwards,  breaking  up  your  fine  houses,  emptying 
your  wine  into  the  street,  tearing  the  silk  and  laces 
from  your  beautiful  soft-limbed  women.  Bah !  But 
you  have  read.  It  would  be  the  French  Revolution 
over  again.  Oh,  but  you  are  wise,  you  in  the  West, 
your  statesmen  and  your  philanthropists,  that  you 
build  these  gin-palaces,  and  smile,  and  rub  your 
hands  and  build  more  and  spend  the  money  gaily. 
You  build  the  one  dam  which  can  keep  back  your 
retribution.  You  keep  them  stupefied,  you  cheapen 
the  vile  liquor  and  hold  it  to  their  noses.  So  they 
drink,  and  you  live.  But  a  day  of  light  may  come.' " 

Lord  Arranmore  ceased  speaking,  stretched  out  his 
hand  and  helped  himself  to  wine  with  unfaltering 
fingers. 

"  I  have  tried,"  he  continued,  "  to  repeat  the  exact 
words  which  the  old  man  used  to  me,  and  I  do  not 
find  it  so  difficult  as  you  might  imagine,  because  at 
that  time  they  made  a  great  impression  upon  me. 


i8o  '  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

But  I  cannot,  of  course,  hope  to  reproduce  to  you 
his  terrible  earnestness,  the  burning  passion  with 
which  every  word  seemed  to  spring  from  his  lips. 
Their  effect  upon  me  at  that  time  you  will  be  able 
to  judge  when  I  tell  you  this  —  that  I  never  re- 
turned to  my  rooms,  that  for  ten  years  I  never  set 
foot  west  of  Temple  Bar.  I  first  joined  a  small 
society  in  Whitechapel,  then  I  worked  for  myself, 
and  finally  I  became  a  police-court  missionary  at 
Southward  Police-Court.  The  history  of  those  years 
is  the  history  of  a  slowly-growing  madness.  I  com- 
menced by  trying  to  improve  whole  districts — I  ended 
with  the  individual." 

Brooks'  wineglass  fell  with  a  little  crash  upon  the 
tablecloth.  The  wine,  a  long  silky  stream,  flowed 
away  from  him  unstaunched,  unregarded.  His  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  Lord  Arranmore.  He  leaned 
forward. 

"  A  police-court  missionary !  "  he  cried,  hoarsely. 

Lord  Arranmore  regarded  him  for  a  moment  in 
silence. 

"  Yes.  As  you  doubtless  surmise,  I  am  your  father. 
Afterwards  you  may  ask  me  questions." 

Brooks  sat  as  one  stupefied,  and  then  a  sudden 
warm  touch  upon  his  hand  sent  the  blood  coursing 
once  more  through  his  veins.  Sybil's  fingers  lay  for 
a  moment  upon  his.  She  smiled  kindly  at  him.  Lord 
Arranmore' s  voice  once  more  broke  the  short  silence. 

"  The  individual  was  my  greatest  disappointment," 
he  continued.  "  Young  and  old,  all  were  the  same. 
I  took  them  to  live  with  me,  I  sent  them  abroad,  I 
found  them  situations  in  this  country,  I  talked  with 
them,  read  with  them,  showed  them  the  simplest 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S    CONFIDENCE     181 

means  within  their  reach  by  means  of  which  they 
might  take  into  their  lives  a  certain  measure  of  beau- 
tiful things.  Failure  would  only  make  me  more 
dogged,  more  eager.  I  would  spend  months  some- 
times with  one  man  or  boy,  and  at  last  I  would 
assure  myself  of  success.  I  would  find  them  a  situ- 
ation, see  them  perhaps  once  a  week,  then  less  often, 
and  the  end  was  always  the  same.  They  fell  back. 
I  had  put  the  poison  to  sleep,  but  it  was  always  there. 
It  was  their  everlasting  heritage,  a  gift  from  father 
to  son,  bred  in  the  bone,  a  part  of  their  blood. 

"  In  those  days  I  married  a  lady  devoted  to  chari- 
table works.  Our  purpose  was  to  work  together,  but 
we  found  it  impracticable.  There  was,  I  fear,  little 
sympathy  between  us.  The  only  bond  was  our  work 
—  and  that  was  soon  to  be  broken.  For  there  came 
a  time,  after  ten  breathless  years,  when  I  paused  to 
consider." 

He  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips  and  drained  it.  The 
wine  was  powerful,  but  it  brought  no  tinge  of  colour 
to  his  cheeks,  nor  any  lustre  to  his  eyes.  He  con- 
tinued in  the  same  firm,  expressionless  tone. 

"  There  came  a  night  when  I  found  myself  think- 
ing, and  I  knew  then  that  a  new  terror  was  stealing 
into  my  life.  I  made  my  way  up  to  the  roof  of  the 
house  where  that  old  man  had  first  taken  me,  and  I 
leaned  once  more  over  the  palisading  and  looked  east- 
wards. I  fancied  that  I  could  still  hear  the  echoes 
of  his  frenzied  words,  and  for  the  first  time  I  heard 
the  note  of  mockery  ringing  clearly  through  them. 
There  they  stretched  —  the  same  blackened  wilder- 
ness of  roofs  sheltering  the  same  horde  of  drinking, 
filthy,  cursing,  parasitical  creatures;  there  flared  the 


182  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

gin-palaces,  more  of  them,  more  brilliantly  lit,  more 
gorgeously  decorated.  Ten  years  of  my  life,  and 
what  had  I  done?  What  could  any  one  do?  The 
truth  seemed  suddenly  written  across  the  sky  in  let- 
ters of  fire.  I,  a  poor  human  creature,  had  been 
fighting  with  a  few  other  fanatics  against  the  invio- 
lable, the  unconquerable  laws  of  nature.  The  hideous 
mistake  of  all  individual  effort  was  suddenly  revealed 
to  me.  We  were  like  a  handful  of  children  striving 
to  dam  a  mighty  torrent  with  a  few  handfuls  of  clay. 
•Better  a  thousand  times  that  these  people  rotted  and 
died  in  their  holes,  that  disease  should  stalk  through 
their  streets,  and  all  the  evil  passions  born  of  their 
misery  and  filth  should  be  allowed  to  blaze  forth  that 
the  whole  world  might  see,  so  the  laws  of  the  world 
might  intervene,  the  great  natural  laws  by  which 
alone  these  things  could  be  changed.  I  looked  down 
at  myself,  then  wasted  to  the  bone,  a  stranger  to  the 
taste  of  wine  or  tobacco,  to  all  the  joys  of  life,  a 
miserable  heart-broken  wretch,  and  I  cursed  that  old 
man  and  the  thought  of  him  till  my  lips  were  dry 
and  my  throat  ached.  I  walked  back  to  my  miser- 
able dwelling  with  a  red  fire  before  my  eyes,  mut- 
tering, cursing  that  power  which  stood  behind  the 
universe,  and  which  we  call  God,  that  there  should 
be  vomited  forth  into  the  world  day  by  day,  hour 
by  hour,  this  black  stream  of  human  wretchedness, 
an  everlasting  mockery  to  those  who  would  seek  for 
the  joy  of  life. 

"  They  took  me  to  the  hospital,  and  they  called  my 
illness  brain-fever.  But  long  before  they  thought  me 
convalescent  I  was  conscious,  lying  awake  and  plot- 
ting my  escape.  With  cunning  I  managed  it.  Of 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S   CONFIDENCE    183 

my  wife  and  child  I  never  once  thought.  Every 
trace  of  human  affection  seemed  withered  up  in  my 
heart.  I  took  the  money  subscribed  for  me  with  a 
hypocrite's  smile,  and  I  slunk  away  from  England. 
I  went  to  Montreal  in  Canada,  and  I  deliberately 
entered  upon  a  life  of  low  pleasures.  Pardon 
me!"  : 

He  bent  forward  and  with  a  steady  hand  read- 
justed the  shade  of  a  lamp  which  was  in  danger  of 
burning.  Lady  Caroom  leaned  back  in  her  chair 
with  an  indrawn  sobbing  breath.  The  action  at 
such  a  moment  seemed  grotesque.  His  own  cool- 
ness, whilst  with  steady  fingers  he  probed  away 
amongst  the  wounded  places  of  his  life,  was  in  itself 
gruesome. 

"  My  money,"  he  continued,  "  was  no  large  sum, 
but  I  eked  it  out  with  gambling.  The  luck  was 
always  on  my  side.  It 's  quite  true  that  I  ruined 
the  father  of  the  young  lady  who  paid  me  a  visit 
to-day.  After  a  somewhat  chequered  career  he  was 
settling  down  in  a  merchant's  office  in  Montreal 
when  I  met  him.  His  luck  at  cards  was  as  bad  as 
mine  was  good.  I  won  all  he  had,  and  more.  I 
believe  that  he  committed  suicide.  A  man  there  was 
kind  to  me,  asked  me  to  his  house  —  I  persuaded 
his  wife  to  run  away  with  me.  These  are  amongst 
the  slightest  of  my  delinquencies.  I  steeped  myself 
in  sin.  I  revelled  in  it.  I  seemed  to  myself  in  some 
way  to  be  showing  my  defiance  for  the  hidden  powers 
of  life  which  I  had  cursed.  I  played  a  match  with 
evil  by  day  and  by  night  until  I  was  glutted.  And 
then  I  stole  away  from  the  city,  leaving  behind  a 
hideous  reputation  and  not  a  single  friend.  Then  a 


1 84  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

new  mood  came  to  me.  I  wanted  to  get  to  a  place 
where  I  should  see  no  human  beings  at  all,  and  escape 
in  that  way  from  the  memories  which  were  still  like 
a  clot  upon  my  brain.  So  I  set  my  face  westwards. 
I  travelled  till  at  last  civilization  lay  behind.  Still  I 
pushed  onward.  I  had  stores  in  plenty,  an  Indian 
servant  who  chanced  to  be  faithful,  and  whom  I  saw 
but  twice  a  day.  At  last  I  reached  Lake  Ono.  Here 
between  us  we  built  a  hut.  I  sent  my  Indian  away 
then,  and  when  he  fawned  at  my  feet  to  stay  I  kicked 
him.  This  was  my  third  phase  of  living,  and  it  was 
true  that  some  measure  of  sanity  came  back  to  me. 
Oh,  the  blessed  relief  of  seeing  the  face  of  neither 
man  nor  woman.  It  was  the  unpeopled  world  of 
Nature  —  uncorrupted,  fresh,  magnificent,  alive  by 
day  and  by  night  with  everlasting  music  of  Nature. 
The  solitudes  of  those  great  forests  were  like  a  won- 
derful balm.  So  the  fevers  were  purged  out  of  me, 
and  I  became  once  more  an  ordinary  human  being. 
I  was  content,  I  think,  to  die  there,  for  I  had  plenty 
to  eat  and  drink,  and  the  animals  and  birds  who 
came  to  me  morning  and  evening  kept  me  from  even 
the  thought  of  loneliness.  The  rest  is  obvious.  I 
lost  two  cousins  in  South  Africa,  an  uncle  in  the 
hunting-field.  A  man  in  Montreal  had  recognized 
me.  I  was  discovered.  But  before  I  returned  I 
killed  Brooks,  the  police-court  missionary.  This  girl 
has  forced  me  to  bring  him  to  life  again." 

It  was  a  strange  silence  which  followed.  Brooks 
sat  back  in  his  chair,  pale,  bewildered,  striving  to 
focus  this  story  properly,  to  attain  a  proper  compre- 
hension of  these  new  strange  things.  And  behind 
all  there  smouldered  the  slow  burning  anger  of  the 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S    CONFIDENCE    185 

child  who  has  looked  into  the  face  of  a  deserted 
mother.  Lady  Caroom  was  white  to  the  lips,  and 
in  her  eyes  the  horror  of  that  story  so  pitilessly  told 
seemed  still  to  linger. 

Lord  Arranmore  spoke  again.  Still  he  sat  back  in 
his  high-backed  chair,  and  still  he  spoke  in  measured, 
monotonous  tones.  But  this  time,  if  only  their  ears 
had  been  quick  enough  to  notice  it,  there  lay  behind 
an  emotion,  held  in  check  indeed,  but  every  now  and 
then  quivering  for  expression.  He  had  turned  to 
Lady  Caroom. 

"  Chance,"  he  said,  "  has  brought  together  here  at 
the  moment  when  the  telling  of  these  things  has  be- 
come a  necessity,  the  two  people  who  have  in  a  sense 
some  right  to  hear  them,  for  from  each  I  have  much 
to  ask.  Sybil  is  your  daughter,  and  from  her  there 
need  be  no  secrets.  So,  Catherine,  I  ask  you  again, 
now  that  you  know  everything,  are  you  brave  enough 
to  be  my  wife?  " 

She  raised  her  eyes,  and  he  saw  the  horror  there. 
But  he  made  no  sign.  She  rose  and  held  out  her 
hand  for  Sybil. 

"  Arranmore,"  she  said,  "  I  am  afraid." 

He  looked  down  upon  his  plate. 

"  So  let  it  be,  then,"  he  said.  "  It  would  need  a 
brave  woman  indeed  to  join  her  lot  with  mine  after 
the  things  which  I  have  told  you.  At  heart,  Cath- 
erine, I  am  almost  a  dead  man.  Believe  me,  you 
are  wise." 

He  rose,  and  the  two  women  passed  from  the 
room.  Then  he  resumed  his  former  seat,  and  atti- 
tude, and  Brooks,  though  he  tried  to  speak,  felt  his 
tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth,  a  dry  and 


i86  A   PRINCE    OF   SINNERS 

nerveless  thing.  For  in  these  doings  there  was 
tragedy. 

"  There  remains  to  me  you,  Philip  Kingston,  my 
son,"  Lord  Arranmore  said,  in  the  same  measured 
tone.  "  You  also  have  before  you  the  story  of 
my  life,  you  are  able  from  it  to  form  some  sort  of 
idea  as  to  what  my  future  is  likely  to  be.  I  do  not 
wish  to  deceive  you.  My  early  enthusiasms  are 
extinct.  I  look  upon  the  ten  or  twenty  years  or  so 
which  may  be  left  to  me  of  life  as  merely  a  space  of 
time  to  be  filled  with  as  many  amusements  and  new 
sensations  as  may  be  procurable  without  undue 
effort.  I  have  no  wish  to  convert,  or  perhaps  per- 
vert you,  to  my  way  of  thinking.  You  live  still  in 
Utopia,  and  to  me  Utopia  does  not  exist.  So 
make  your  choice  deliberately.  Do  you  care  to 
come  to  me?  " 

Then  Brooks  found  words  of  a  sort. 

"  Lord  Arranmore,"  he  said,  "  forgive  me  if  what 
I  must  say  sounds  undutiful.  I  know  that  you  have 
suffered.  I  can  realize  something  of  what  you  have 
been  through.  But  your  desertion  of  my  mother  and 
me  was  a  brutality.  What  you  call  your  creed  of  life 
sounds  to  me  hideous.  You  and  I  are  far  apart,  and 
so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  God  grant  that  we  may 
remain  so." 

For  the  first  time  Lord  Arranmore  smiled.  He 
poured  out  with  steady  hand  yet  another  glass  of 
wine,  and  he  nodded  towards  the  door. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,"  he  said,  "  for  your  candour. 
I  have  met  with  enough  hypocrisy  in  life  to  be  able 
to  appreciate  it.  Be  so  good  as  to  humour  my  whim 
—  and  to  leave  me  alone." 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S    CONFIDENCE    187 

Brooks  rose  from  his  seat,  hesitated  for  a  single 
moment,  and  left  the  room.  Lord  Arranmore  leaned 
back  in  his  high-backed  chair  and  looked  round  at 
the  empty  places.  The  cigarette  burned  out  between 
his  fingers,  his  wine  remained  untasted.  The  even- 
ing's entertainment  was  over. 


PART  II 

CHAPTER   I 
LORD  ARRANMORE'S  AMUSEMENTS 


domestic  virtues,"  Lord  Arranmore  said 
softly  to  himself,  "  being  denied  to  me,  the 
question  remains  how  to  pass  one's  time." 

He  rose  wearily  from  his  seat,  and  walking  to  the 
window  looked  out  upon  St.  James's  Square.  A  soft 
rain  hung  about  the  lamp-posts,  the  pavements  were 
thick  with  umbrellas.  He  returned  to  his  chair  with 
a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

"  The  only  elucidation  from  outside  seems  to  be 
a  change  of  climate,"  he  mused.  "  I  should  prefer 
to  think  of  something  more  original.  In  the  mean- 
time I  will  write  to  that  misguided  young  man  in 
Medchester." 

He  drew  paper  and  pen  towards  him  and  began  to 
write.  Even  his  handwriting  seemed  a  part  of  the 
man  —  cold,  shapely,  and  deliberate. 

"  MY  DEAR  BROOKS, 

"  I  have  been  made  acquainted  through  Mr. 
Ascough  with  your  desire  to  leave  the  new  firm  of 
Morrison  and  Brooks,  and  while  I  congratulate  you  very 
much  upon  the  fact  itself,  I  regret  equally  the  course  of 
reasoning  which  I  presume  led  to  your  decision.  You 
will  probably  have  heard  from  Mr.  Ascough  by  this 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S   AMUSEMENTS     189 

time  on  a  matter  of  business.  You  are,  by  birth,  Lord 
Kingston  of  Ross,  and  the  possessor  of  the  Kingston 
income,  which  amounts  to  a  little  over  two  thousand  a 
year.  Please  remember  that  this  comes  to  you  not 
through  any  grace  or  favour  of  mine,  but  by  your  own 
unalienable  right  as  the  eldest  son  of  the  Marquis  of 
Arranmore.  I  cannot  give  it  to  you.  I  cannot  withhold 
it  from  you.  If  you  refuse  to  take  it  the  amount  must 
accumulate  for  your  heirs,  or  in  due  time  find  its  way 
to  the  Crown.  Leave  the  title  alone  by  all  means,  if  you 
like,  but  do  not  carry  quixotism  to  the  borders  of 
insanity  by  declining  to  spend  your  own  money,  and 
thereby  cramp  your  life. 

"  I  trust  to  hear  from  Mr.  Ascough  of  your  more 
reasonable  frame  of  mind,  and  while  personally  I  agree 
with  you  that  we  are  better  apart,  you  can  always  rely 
upon  me  if  I  can  be  of  any  service  to  you. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  ARRANMORE." 

He  read  the  letter  through  thoughtfully  and  folded 
it  up. 

"  I  really  don't  see  what  the  young  fool  can  kick 
about  in  that,"  he  said,  throwing  it  into  the  basket. 
"Well,  Hennibul,  how  are  you?" 

Mr.  Hennibul,  duly  ushered  in  by  a  sedate  butler, 
pronounced  himself  both  in  words  and  appearance  fit 
and  well.  He  took  a  chair  and  a  cigarette,  and  looked 
about  him  approvingly. 

"  Nice  house,  yours,  Arranmore.  Nice  old-fash- 
ioned situation,  too.  Why  don't  you  entertain?" 

"  No  friends,  no  inclination,  no  womankind !  " 

Mr.  Hennibul  smiled  incredulously. 

"  Your  card  plate  is  chock-full,"  he  said,  "and  there 
are  a  dozen  women  in  town  at  least  of  your  connec- 


190  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

tions  who  'd  do  the  polite  things  by  you.  As  to 
inclination  —  well,  one  must  do  something." 

"  That 's  about  the  most  sensible  thing  you  have 
said,  Hennibul,"  Arranmore  remarked.  "  I  've  just 
evolved  the  same  fact  out  of  my  own  consciousness. 
One  must  do  something.  It 's  tiresome,  but  it 's  quite 
true." 

"Politics?" 

"  Hate  'em !     Not  worth  while  anyway." 

"  Travel." 

"  Done  all  I  want  for  a  bit,  but  I  keep  that  in 
reserve." 

"  Hunt." 

"  Bad  leg,  but  I  do  a  bit  at  it." 

"  Society." 

"  Sooner  go  on  the  County  Council." 

"  City." 

"  Too  much  money  already." 

"  Write  a  book." 

"  No  one  would  read  it." 

"  Start  a  magazine." 

"  Too  hard  work." 

Mr.  Hennibul  sighed. 

"  You  're  rather  a  difficult  case,"  he  admitted. 
"  You  'd  better  come  round  to  the  clubs  and  play 
bridge." 

"  I  never  played  whist  —  and  I  'm  bad-tempered." 

"  Bit  of  everything  then." 

Lord  Arranmore  smiled. 

"  That 's  what  it  '11  end  in,  I  suppose." 

"  Pleasant  times  we  had  down  at  Enton,"  Mr. 
Hennibul  remarked.  "  How  's  the  nice  young  law- 
yer —  Brooks  his  name  was,  I  think  ?  " 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S   AMUSEMENTS    191 

"  All  right,  I  believe." 

"And  the  ladies?" 

"  I  believe  that  they  are  quite  well.  They  were  in 
Scotland  last  time  I  heard  of  them." 

Mr.  Hennibul  found  conversation  difficult. 

"  I  saw  that  you  were  in  Paris  the  other  week," 
he  remarked. 

"  I  went  over  to  see  Bernhardt's  new  play,"  Arran- 
more  continued. 

"Good?" 

"  It  disappointed  me.  Very  likely  though  the  fault 
was  with  myself." 

Mr.  Hennibul  looked  across  at  his  host  shrewdly. 

"What  did  you  see  me  for?"  he  asked,  sud- 
denly. "  You  're  bored  to  death  trying  to  keep  up 
a  conversation." 

Lord  Arranmore  laughed. 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  don't  know,  Hennibul,"  he 
answered.  "  For  the  same  old  reason,  I  suppose. 
One  must  see  some  one,  do  something.  I  thought 
that  you  might  amuse  me." 

"  And  I  've  failed,"  Hennibul  declared,  smiling, 
"  Come  to  supper  at  the  Savoy  to-night.  The  two 
new  American  girls  from  the  Lyric  and  St.  John 
Lyttleton  are  to  be  there.  Moderately  respectable, 
I  believe,  but  a  bit  noisy  perhaps." 

Arranmore  shook  his  head. 

"  You  're  a  good  fellow,  Hennibul,"  he  said,  "  but 
I  'm  too  old  for  that  sort  of  thing." 

Hennibul  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "I've  kept  the  best  piece  of 
advice  till  last  because  I  want  you  to  think  of  it. 
Marry!" 


192  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Lord  Arranmore  did  not  smile.  He  did  not  im- 
mediately reply. 

"  You  are  a  bachelor!  "  he  remarked. 

"  I  am  a  man  of  a  different  disposition,"  Hennibul 
answered.  "  I  find  pleasure  in  everything  —  every- 
thing amuses  me.  My  work  is  fascinating,  my  play- 
time is  never  long  enough.  I  really  don't  know  where 
a  wife  would  come  in.  However,  if  ever  I  did  get  a 
bit  hipped,  find  myself  in  your  position,  for  instance, 
I  can  promise  you  that  I  'd  take  my  own  medicine. 
I  've  thought  of  it  more  than  once  lately." 

"  Perhaps  by  that  time,"  Lord  Arranmore  said, 
"  the  woman  whom  you  wanted  to  marry  would  n't 
have  you." 

Hennibul  looked  serious  for  a  moment.  A  new 
idea  had  occurred  to  him. 

"  One  must  take  one's  chances !  "  he  said. 

"  You  are  a  philosopher,"  Arranmore  declared. 
""  Will  you  have  some  tea  —  or  a  whisky-and-soda?  " 

"  Neither,  thanks.  In  an  abortive  attempt  to  pre- 
serve my  youth  I  neither  take  tea  nor  drinks  between 
meals.  I  will  have  one  of  your  excellent  cigarettes 
and  get  round  to  the  club.  Why,  this  is  Enton  over 
again,  for  here  comes  Molyneux." 

The  Hon.  Sydney  Molyneux  shook  hands  with 
both  of  them  in  somewhat  dreary  fashion,  and  em- 
barked upon  a  few  disjointed  remarks.  Hennibul 
took  his  leave,  and  Arranmore  yawned  openly. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Sydney  ? "  he 
asked.  "  You  are  duller  than  ever.  I  am  positively 
not  going  to  sit  here  and  mumble  about  the  weather. 
How  are  the  Carooms  ?  Have  you  heard  from  them 
lately?"- 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S   AMUSEMENTS     193 

"  They  are  up  in  Yorkshire,"  Molyneux  announced, 
"  staying  with  the  Pryce- Powells.  I  believe  they  're 
all  right.  I  'm  beastly  fit  myself,  but  I  had  a  bit  of 
a  facer  last  week.  I  —  er  —  I  wanted  to  ask  you  a 
question." 

"Well?" 

"  About  that  fellow  Brooks  I  met  at  your  place 
down  at  Enton.  Lawyer  at  Medchester,  isn't  he? 
I  thought  that  he  and  Sybil  seemed  a  bit  thick 
somehow.  Don't  suppose  there  could  have  been 
anything  in  it,  eh  ?  He 's  no  one  in  particular,  I 
suppose.  Lady  Caroom  would  n't  be  likely  to  listen 
to  anything  between  Sybil  and  him?" 

Arranmore  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"  Brooks  is  a  very  intelligent  young  man,"  he  said, 
"  and  some  girls  are  attracted  by  brains,  you  know. 
I  don't  know  anything  about  his  relations  with  Sybil 
Caroom,  but  he  has  ample  private  means,  and  I  be- 
lieve that  he  is  well-born." 

"  Fellow  's  a  gentleman,  of  course,"  Molyneux  de- 
clared, "  but  Lady  Caroom  is  a  little  ambitious,  is  n't 
she?  I  always  seemed  to  be  in  the  running  all  right 
lately.  I  spent  last  Sunday  with  them  at  Chelsom 
Castle.  Awful  long  way  to  go,  but  I  'm  fond  of 
Sybil.  I  thought  she  was  a  bit  cool  to  me,  but,  like 
a  fool,  I  blundered  on,  and  in  the  end  —  I  got  a 
facer." 

"  Very  sorry  for  you,"  Arranmore  yawned. 

"  What  made  me  think  about  Brooks  was  that  she 
was  awfully  decent  to  me  before  Enton,"  Molyneux 
continued.  "  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  I  'm  hard 
hit.  I  want  to  know  who  Brooks  is.  If  he  's  only  a 
country  lawyer,  he  's  got  no  earthly  chance  with  Lady 

13 


194  A    PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

Caroom,  and  Sybil  'd  never  go  against  her  mother. 
They  're  too  great  pals  for  that.  Never  saw  them  so 
thick." 

"  Was  Lady  Caroom  —  quite  well  ?  "  Arranmore 
asked,  irrelevantly. 

"  Well,  now  you  mention  it,"  Molyneux  said,  "  I 
don't  think  she  was  quite  in  her  usual  form.  She 
was  much  quieter,  and  it  struck  me  that  she  was 
aging  a  bit.  Wonderful  woman,  though.  She  and 
Sybil  were  quite  inseparable  at  Chelsom  —  more  like 
sisters  than  anything,  'pon  my  word." 

Lord  Arranmore  looked  into  the  fire,  and  was 
silent  for  several  minutes. 

"  So  far  as  regards  Brooks,"  he  said,  "  I  do  not 
think  that  he  would  be  an  acceptable  son-in-law  to 
Lady  Caroom,  but  I  am  not  in  the  least  sure.  He  is 
by  no  means  an  insignificant  person.  If  he  were 
really  anxious  to  marry  Sybil  Caroom,  he  would  be 
a  rival  worth  consideration.  I  cannot  tell  you  any- 
thing more." 

"  Much  obliged  to  you  I  'm  sure.  I  shall  try  again 
when  they  come  to  town,  of  course." 

Arranmore  rose  up. 

"  I  am  going  down  to  Christie's  to  see  some  old 
French  manuscripts,"  he  said.  "  Is  that  on  your 
way?" 

Molyneux  shook  his  head. 

"  Going  down  to  the  House,  thanks,"  he  answered. 
41 1  '11  look  you  up  again  some  time,  if  I  may." 

They  walked  out  into  the  street  together.  Arran- 
more stepped  into  his  brougham  and  was  driven  off. 
At  the  top  of  St.  James's  Street  he  pulled  the  check- 
string  and  jumped  out.  He  had  caught  a  glimpse 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S   AMUSEMENTS     195 

of  a  girl's  face  looking  into  a  shop  window.  He 
hastily  crossed  the  pavement  and  accosted  her,  hat 
in  hand. 

"  Miss  Scott,  will  you  permit  me  the  opportunity 
of  saying  a  few  words  to  you  ?  " 

Mary  turned  round,  speechless  for  more  than  a 
minute  or  two. 

"  I  will  not  detain  you  for  more  than  a  minute  or 
two.  I  hope  that  you  will  not  refuse  me." 

"  I  will  listen  to  anything  you  have  to  say,  Lord 
Arranmore,"  she  said,  "  but  let  me  tell  you  that  I 
have  been  to  see  Mr.  Ascough.  He  told  me  that  he 
had  your  permission  to  explain  to  me  fully  the  reasons 
of  your  coming  to  Montreal  and  the  story  of  your 
life  before." 
.  "Well?" 

She  hesitated.  He  stood  before  her,  palpably  anx- 
iously waiting  for  her  decision. 

"  I  was  perhaps  wrong  to  judge  so  hastily,  Lord 
Arranmore,"  she  said,  "  and  I  am  inclined  to  regret 
my  visit  to  Enton.  If  you  care  to  know  it,  I  do  not 
harbour  any  animosity  towards  you.  But  I  cannot 
possibly  accept  this  sum  of  money.  I  told  Mr.  As- 
cough so  finally." 

"  It  is  only  justice,  Miss  Scott,"  he  said,  in  a  low 
tone.  "  I  won  the  money  from  your  father  fairly  in 
one  sense,  but  unfairly  in  another,  for  I  was  a  good 
player  and  he  was  a  very  poor  one.  You  will  do  me 
a  great,  an  immeasurable  kindness,  if  you  will  allow 
me  to  make  this  restitution." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  If  my  forgiveness  is  of  any  value  to  you,  Lord 
Arranmore,"  she  said,  "  you  may  have  it.  But  I 
cannot  accept  the  money." 


196  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"You  have  consulted  no  one?" 

"  No  one." 

"  You  have  a  guardian  or  friends  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  living  with  my  uncle,  Mr.  Bullsom. 
He  has  been  very  kind  to  me,  and  I  have " 

"Mary!" 

They  both  turned  round.  Selina  and  Mr.  Bullsom 
had  issued  from  the  shop  before  which  they  stood. 
Both  were  looking  at  Lord  Arranmore  with  curiosity, 
in  Selina' s  case  mixed  with  suspicion. 

"  Is  this  your  uncle?  "  he  asked.  "  Will  you  intro- 
duce me  ?  " 

Mary  bit  her  lip. 

"  Uncle,  this  is  Lord  Arranmore,"  she  said.  "  Mr. 
Bullsom,  my  cousin,  Miss  Bullsom." 

Mr.  Bullsom  retained  presence  of  mind  enough  to 
remove  a  new  and  very  shiny  silk  hat,  and  to  extend 
a  yellow,  dog-skinned  gloved  hand. 

"  Very  proud  to  meet  your  lordship,"  he  declared. 
"I  —  I  was  n't  aware " 

Lord  Arranmore  extricated  his  hand  from  a  some- 
what close  grasp,  and  bowed  to  Selina. 

"  We  are  neighbours,  you  know,  Mr.  Bullsom,"  he 
said,  "  at  Medchester.  I  met  your  niece  there,  and 
recognized  her  at  once,  though  she  was  a  little  slip  of 
a  girl  when  I  knew  her  last.  Her  father  and  I  were 
in  Montreal  together." 

"  God  bless  my  soul,"  Mr.  Bullsom  exclaimed,  in 
much  excitement.  "  It 's  your  lawyers,  then,  who 
have  been  advertising  for  Mary  ?  " 

Lord  Arranmore  bowed. 

"  That  is  so,"  he  admitted.  "  I  am  sorry  to  say  that 
I  cannot  induce  your  niece  to  look  upon  a  certain 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S    AMUSEMENTS     197 

transaction  between  her  father  and  myself  from  a 
business-like  point  of  view.  I  think  that  you  and  I, 
Mr.  Bullsom,  might  come  to  a  better  understanding. 
Will  you  give  me  an  appointment?  I  should  like  to 
discuss  the  matter  with  you." 

"  With  the  utmost  pleasure,  my  lord,"  Mr.  Bullsom 
declared  heartily.  "  Can't  expect  these  young  ladies 
to  see  through  a  business  matter,  eh  ?  I  will  come  to 
your  lordship's  house  whenever  you  like." 

"  It  would  be  quite  useless,  uncle,"  Mary  inter- 
posed, firmly.  "  Lord  Arranmore  has  already  my; 
final  answer." 

Mr.  Bullsom  was  a  little  excited. 

"Tut,  tut,  child!"  he  exclaimed.  "Don't  talk 
nonsense.  I  should  be  proud  to  talk  this  matter  over 
with  Lord  Arranmore.  We  are  staying  at  the  Metro- 
pole,  and  if  your  lordship  would  call  there  to-morrow 
and  take  a  bit  of  lunch,  eh,  about  one  o'clock  —  if  it 
is  n't  too  great  a  liberty." 

Selina  had  never  loved  her  father  more  sin- 
cerely. Lord  Arranmore  smiled  faintly,  but  good- 
humouredly. 

"  You  are  exceedingly  kind,"  he  said.  "  For  our 
business  talk,  perhaps,  it  would  be  better  if  you  would 
come  to  St.  James's  House  at,  say,  10.30,  if  that  is 
convenient.  I  will  send  a  carriage." 

"  I  '11  be  ready  prompt,"  Mr.  Bullsom  declared. 
"  Now,  girls,  we  will  say  good-afternoon  to  his  lord- 
ship and  get  a  four-wheeler." 

Selina  raised  her  eyes  and  dropped  them  again  in 
the  most  approved  fashion.  Mr.  Bullsom  shook  hands 
as  though  it  were  a  sacrament;  Mary,  who  was 
annoyed,  did  not  smile  at  all. 


198  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  This  is  all  quite  unnecessary,  Lord  Arranmore," 
she  said,  while  her  uncle  was  signalling  for  a  cab. 
"  I  shall  not  change  my  mind,  and  I  am  sorry  that 
you  spoke  to  uncle  about  it  at  all." 

"  It  is  a  serious  matter  to  me,  Miss  Scott,"  Lord 
Arranmore  said,  gravely.  "  And  there  is  still  an- 
other point  of  view  from  which  I  might  urge  it." 

"  It  is  wasted  time,"  she  declared,  firmly. 

Selina  detached  herself  from  her  father,  and  stood 
by  Lord  Arranmore' s  side. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  often  in  London,  Lord  Arran- 
more?" she  asked  shyly. 

"  A  great  deal  too  often,"  he  answered. 

"  We  read  about  your  beautiful  parties  at  Enton," 
she  said,  with  a  sigh.  "  It  is  such  a  lovely  place." 

"  I  am  glad  you  like  it,"  he  answered,  absently. 
"  I  see  your  uncle  cannot  find  a  four-wheeler.  You 
must  take  my  carriage.  I  am  only  going  a  few 
steps." 

Mary's  eager  protest  was  drowned  in  Selina's  shrill 
torrent  of  thanks.  Lord  Arranmore  beckoned  to  his 
coachman,  and  the  brougham,  with  its  pair  of  strong 
horses,  drew  up  against  the  pavement.  The  footman 
threw  open  the  door.  Selina  entered  in  a  fever  for 
fear  a  cab  which  her  father  was  signalling  should, 
after  all,  respond  to  his  summons.  Mr.  Bullsom 
found  his  breath  taken  away. 

"  We  could  n't  possibly  take  your  lordship's  car- 
riage," he  protested. 

"  I  have  only  a  few  steps  to  go,  Mr.  Bullsom, 
and  it  would  be  a  kindness,  for  my  horses  are  never 
more  than  half  exercised.  At  10.30  to-morrow 
then." 


LORD   ARRANMORE'S   AMUSEMENTS     199 

He  stood  bareheaded  upon  the  pavement  for  a 
moment,  and  Selina's  eyes  and  smile  had  never 
worked  harder.  Mary  leaned  back,  too  angry  to 
speak.  Selina  and  Mr.  Bullsom  sat  well  forward, 
and  pulled  both  windows  down. 


CHAPTER   II 

THE    HECKLING    OF    HENSLOW 

"^"inVHE  long  and  short  of  it  is,  then,  Mr.  Henslow, 

J_  that  you  decline  to  fulfil  your  pledges  given 
at  the  last  election  ?  "  Brooks  asked,  coldly. 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,"  Mr.  Henslow  declared, 
testily.  "  You  have  no  right  to  suggest  anything  of 
the  sort." 

"No  right!" 

"  Certainly  not.  You  are  my  agent,  and  you  ought 
to  work  with  me  instead " 

"  I  have  already  told  you,"  Brooks  interrupted, 
"  that  I  am  nothing  of  the  sort.  I  should  not  dream 
of  acting  for  you  again,  and  if  you  think  a  formal 
resignation  necessary,  I  will  post  you  one  to-morrow. 
I  am  one  of  your  constituents,  nothing  more  or  less. 
But  as  I  am  in  some  measure  responsible  for  your 
presence  here,  I  consider  myself  within  my  rights 
in  asking  you  these  questions." 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  be  hectored !  "  Mr.  Henslow 
declared. 

"  Nobody  wants  to  hector  you !  You  gave  certain 
pledges  to  us,  and  you  have  not  fulfilled  one  of  them." 

"  They  won't  let  me.  I  'm  not  here  as  an  inde- 
pendent Member.  I  'm  here  as  a  Liberal,  and  Sir 
Henry  himself  struck  out  my  proposed  question  and 
motion.  I  must  go  with  the  Party." 


THE   HECKLING   OF   HENSLOW,       201 

"  You  know  quite  well,"  Brooks  said,  "  that  you 
are  within  your  rights  in  keeping  the  pledges  you 
made  to  the  mass  meeting  at  Medchester." 

Henslow  shook  his  head. 

"  It  would  be  no  good,"  he  declared.  "  I  've 
sounded  lots  of  men  about  it.  I  myself  have  not 
changed.  I  believe  in  some  measure  of  protection. 
I  am  a  firm  believer  in  it.  But  the  House  would  n't 
listen  to  me.  The  times  are  not  ripe  for  anything  of 
the  sort  yet." 

"  How  do  you  know  until  you  try?  "  Brooks  pro- 
tested. "  Your  promise  was  to  bring  the  question 
before  Parliament  in  connection  with  the  vast  and 
increasing  number  of  unemployed.  You  are  within 
your  rights  in  doing  so,  and  to  speak  frankly  we  in- 
sist upon  it,  or  we  ask  for  your  resignation." 

"  Are  you  speaking  with  authority,  young  man  ?  " 
Mr.  Henslow  asked. 

"  Of  course  I  am.  I  am  the  representative  of  the 
Liberal  Parliamentary  Committee,  and  I  am  empow- 
ered to  say  these  things  to  you,  and  more." 

"  Well,  I  '11  do  the  best  I  can  to  get  a  date,"  Mr. 
Henslow  said,  grumblingly,  "  but  you  fellows  are 
always  in  such  a  hurry,  and  you  don't  understand 
that  it  don't  go  up  here.  We  have  to  wait  our  time 
month  after  month  sometimes." 

"  I  don't  see  any  motion  down  in  your  name  at  all 
yet,"  Brooks  remarked. 

"  I  told  you  that  Sir  Henry  struck  it  through." 

"  Then  I  shall  call  upon  him  and  point  out  that  he 
is  throwing  away  a  Liberal  seat  at  the  next  election," 
Brooks  replied.  "  He  is  n't  the  sort  of  man  to  en- 
courage a  Member  to  break  his  election  pledges," 


202  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  You  '11  make  a  mess  of  the  whole  thing  if  you  do 
anything  of  the  sort,"  Henslow  declared.  "  Look 
here,  come  and  have  a  bit  of  dinner  with  me,  and  talk 
things  over  a  bit  more  pleasantly,  eh?  There's  no 
use  in  getting  our  rags  out." 

"  Please  excuse  me,"  Brooks  said.  "  I  have  ar- 
ranged to  dine  elsewhere.  I  do  not  wish  to  seem  dic- 
tatorial or  unreasonable,  but  I  have  just  come  from 
Medchester,  where  the  distress  is,  if  anything,  worse 
than  ever.  It  makes  one's  heart  sick  to  walk  the 
streets,  and  when  I  look  into  the  people's  faces  I  seem 
to  always  hear  that  great  shout  of  hope  and  enthusi- 
asm which  your  speech  in  the  market-place  evoked. 
You  see,  there  is  only  one  real  hope  for  these  people, 
and  that  is  legislation,  and  you  are  the  man  directly 
responsible  to  them  for  that." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  '11  do!  "  Mr.  Henslow  said, 
in  a  burst  of  generosity.  "  I  '11  send  another  ten 
guineas  to  the  Unemployed  Fund." 

"  Take  my  advice  and  don't,"  Brooks  answered, 
dryly.  "  They  might  be  reminded  of  the  people 
who  clamoured  for  bread  and  were  offered  a 
stone.  Do  your  duty  here.  Keep  your  pledges. 
Speak  in  the  House  with  the  same  passion  and 
the  same  eloquence  as  when  you  sowed  hope  in 
the  heart  of  those  suffering  thousands.  Some 
one  must  break  away  from  this  musty  routine 
of  Party  politics.  The  people  will  be  heard,  Mr. 
Henslow.  Their  voice  has  dominated  the  fate 
of  every  nation  in  time,  and  it  will  be  so  with 
ours." 

Mr.  Henslow  was  silent  for  a  few  minutes.  This 
young  man  who  would  not  drink  champagne,  or  be 


THE   HECKLING   OF   HENSLOW       203 

hail-fellow-well-met,  and  who  was  in  such  deadly 
earnest,  was  a  nuisance. 

"  I  tell  you  what  I  '11  do,"  he  said  at  last.  "  I  '11 
have  a  few  words  with  Sir  Henry,  and  see  you  to- 
morrow at  what  time  you  like." 

"  Certainly,"  Brooks  answered,  rising.  "  If  you 
will  allow  me  to  make  a  suggestion,  Mr.  Henslow,  I 
would  ask  you  to  run  through  in  your  memory  all 
your  speeches  and  go  through  your  pledges  one  by 
one.  Let  Sir  Henry  understand  that  your  constituents 
will  not  be  trifled  with,  for  it  is  not  a  question  of 
another  candidate,  it  is  a  question  of  another  party. 
You  have  set  the  ball  rolling,  and  I  can  assure  you 
that  the  next  Member  whom  Medchester  sends  here, 
whether  it  be  you  or  any  one  else,  will  come  fully 
pledged  to  a  certain  measure  of  Protection." 

Mr.  Henslow  nodded. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said,  gloomily.  "  Where  are  you 
staying?  " 

"  At  the  Metropole.    Mr.  Bullsom  is  there  also." 

"  I  will  call,"  Mr.  Henslow  promised,  "at  three 
o'clock,  if  that  is  convenient." 

Brooks  passed  out  across  the  great  courtyard  and 
through  the  gates.  He  had  gone  to  his  interview  with 
Henslow  in  a  somewhat  depressed  state  of  mind,  and 
its  result  had  not  been  enlivening.  Were  all  politics 
like  this?  Was  the  greatest  of  causes,  the  cause  of 
the  people,  to  be  tossed  about  from  one  to  the  other, 
a  joke  with  some,  a  juggling  ball  with  others,  never 
to  be  dealt  with  firmly  and  wisely  by  the  brains  and 
generosity  of  the  Empire?  He  looked  back  at  the 
Houses  of  Parliament,  with  their  myriad  lights,  their 
dark,  impressive  outline.  And  for  a  moment  the  de^ 


204  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

pression  passed  away.  He  thought  of  the  freedom 
which  had  been  won  within  those  walls,  of  the  gigantic 
struggles,  the  endless,  restless  journeying  onward 
towards  the  truths,  the  great  truths  of  the  world.  All 
politicians  were  not  as  this  man  Henslow.  There 
were  others,  more  strenuous,  more  single-hearted. 
He  himself  —  and  his  heart  beat  at  the  thought  — 
why  should  he  not  take  his  place  there  ?  The  thought 
fascinated  him,  —  every  word  of  Lord  Arranmore's 
letter  which  he  had  recently  received,  seemed  to  stand 
out  before  him.  His  feet  fell  more  blithely  upon  the 
pavement,  he  carried  himself  with  a  different  air. 
Here  were  ample  means  to  fill  his  life,  —  means  by 
which  he  could  crush  out  that  sweet  but  unhappy 
tangle  of  memories  which  somehow  or  other  had 
stolen  the  flavour  out  of  life  for  the  last  few  weeks. 

At  the  hotel  he  glanced  at  the  clock.  It  was  just 
eight,  and  he  was  to  accompany  the  Bullsoms  to  the 
theatre.  He  met  them  in  the  hall,  and  Selina  looked 
with  reproach  at  his  morning  clothes.  She  was  wear- 
ing a  new  swansdown  theatre  cloak,  with  a  collar 
which  she  had  turned  up  round  her  face  like  a  frame. 
She  was  convinced  that  she  had  never  looked  so  well 
in  her  life. 

"  Mr.  Brooks,  how  naughty  of  you,"  she  exclaimed, 
shaking  her  head  in  mock  reproach.  "  Why,  the  play 
begins  at  8.15,  and  it  is  eight  o'clock  already.  Have 
you  had  dinner?  " 

"  Oh,  I  can  manage  with  something  in  my  room 
while  I  change,"  he  answered  cheerily.  "  I  'm  going 
to  take  you  all  out  to  supper  after  the  theatre,  you 
know.  Don't  wait  for  me  —  I  '11  come  on.  His 
Majesty's,  isn't  it?" 


THE   HECKLING   OF   HENSLOW        205 

"  I  '11  keep  your  seat/'  Selina  promised  him,  low- 
ering her  voice.  "  That  is,  if  you  are  very  good  and 
come  before  it  is  half  over.  Do  you  know  that  we 
met  a  friend  of  yours,  and  he  lent  us  his  carriage, 
and  I  think  he  's  charming." 

Brooks  looked  surprised.  He  glanced  at  Mary,  and 
saw  a  look  in  her  face  which  came  as  a  revelation  to 
him. 

"  You  don't  mean " 

"Lord  Arranmore!"  Selina  declared,  triumphantly. 
"  He  was  so  nice.  He  would  n't  let  us  come  home  in 
a  cab.  He  positively  made  us  take  his  own  carriage." 

Mr.  Bullsom  came  hurrying  up. 

"  Cab  waiting,"  he  announced.  "  Come  on,  girls. 
See  you  later,  then,  Brooks." 

Brooks  changed  his  clothes  leisurely,  and  went  into 
the  smoking-room  for  some  sandwiches  and  a  glass 
of  wine.  A  small  boy  shouting  his  number  attracted 
his  attention.  He  called  him,  and  was  handed  a 
card. 

"Lord  Arranmore!" 

"  You  can  show  the  gentleman  here,"  Brooks 
directed. 

Arranmore  came  in,  and  nodded  a  little  wearily  to 
Brooks,  whom  he  had  not  seen  since  the  latter  had 
left  Enton. 

"  I  won't  keep  you,"  he  remarked.  "  I  just  wanted 
a  word  with  you  about  that  obstinate  young  person, 
Miss  —  er  —  Scott." 

Brooks  wheeled  an  easy-chair  towards  him. 

"  I  am  in  no  great  hurry,"  he  remarked. 

Arranmore  glanced  at  the  clock. 

"  More  am  I,"  he  said,  "  but  I  find  I  am  dining  with 


206  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

the  Prime  Minister  at  nine  o'clock.  It  occurs  to  me 
that  you  may  have  some  influence  with  her." 

"  We  are  on  fairly  friendly  terms,"  Brooks  ad- 
mitted. 

"  Just  so.  Well,  she  may  have  told  you  that  my 
solicitors  approached  her,  as  the  daughter  of  Martin 
Scott,  with  the  offer  of  a  certain  sum  of  money,  which 
is  only  a  fair  and  reasonable  item,  which  I  won  from 
her  father  at  a  time  when  we  were  not  playing  on 
equal  terms.  It  was  through  that  she  found  me 
out." 

"  Yes,  I  knew  as  much  as  that." 

"  So  I  imagined.  But  the  hot-headed  young  woman 
has  up  to  now  steadily  refused  to  accept  anything 
whatever  from  me.  Quite  ridiculous  of  her.  There  's 
no  doubt  that  I  broke  up  the  happy  home,  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing,  and  I  really  can't  see  why  she 
should  n't  permit  me  the  opportunity  of  making  some 
restitution." 

"  You  want  her  to  afford  you  the  luxury  of  salving 
your  conscience,"  Brooks  remarked,  dryly. 

Lord  Arranmore  laughed  hardly. 

"  Conscience,"  he  repeated.  "  You  ought  to  know 
me  better,  Brooks,  than  to  suppose  me  possessed  of 
such  a  thing.  No;  I  have  a  sense  of  justice,  that  is 
all  —  a  sort  of  weakness  for  seeing  the  scales  held 
fairly.  Now,  don't  you  think  it  is  reasonable  that 
she  should  accept  this  money  from  me?  " 

"  It  depends  entirely  upon  how  she  feels,"  Brooks 
answered.  "  You  have  no  right  to  press  it  upon  her 
if  she  has  scruples.  Nor  have  you  any  right  to  try 
and  enlist  her  family  on  your  side,  as  you  seem  to  be 
doing." 


THE   HECKLING   OF   HENSLOW,       207 

"  Will  you  discuss  it  with  her?  " 

11 1  should  not  attempt  to  influence  her,"  Brooks 
answered. 

"  Be  reasonable,  Brooks.  The  money  can  make 
no  earthly  difference  to  me,  and  it  secures  for  her 
independence.  The  obligation,  if  only  a  moral  one, 
is  real  enough.  There  is  no  question  of  charity.  Use 
your  influence  with  her." 

Brooks  shook  his  head. 

"  I  have  great  confidence  in  Miss  Scott's  own  judg- 
ment," he  said.  "  I  prefer  not  to  interfere." 

Arranmore  sat  quite  still  for  a  moment.  Then  he 
rose  slowly  to  his  feet. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  troubled  you,"  he  said.  "  The 
world  seems  to  have  grown  more  quixotic  since  I 
knew  it  better.  I  am  almost  afraid  to  ask  you  whether 
my  last  letter  has  yet  received  the  favour  of  your 
consideration." 

Brooks  flushed  a  little  at  the  biting  sarcasm  in 
Arranmore' s  tone,  but  he  restrained  himself. 

"  I  have  considered  —  the  matter  fully,"  he  said ; 
"  and  I  have  talked  it  over  with  Mr.  Ascough.  There 
seems  to  be  no  reason  why  I  should  refuse  the  income 
to  which  I  seem  to  be  entitled." 

Lord  Arranmore  nodded  and  lit  a  cigarette. 

"  I  am  thankful,"  he  said,  dryly,  "  for  so  much 
common-sense.  Mr.  Ascough  will  put  you  in  posses- 
sion of  a  banking  account  at  any  moment.  Should 
you  consider  it  —  well  —  intrusive  on  my  part  if  I 
were  to  inquire  as  to  your  plans?  " 

Brooks  hesitated. 

"  They  are  as  yet  not  wholly  formed,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  am  thinking  of  studying  social  politics  for 


208  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

some  time  here  in  London  with  the  intention  of 
entering  public  life." 

"  A  very  laudable  ambition,"  Lord  Arranmore 
answered.  "  If  I  can  be  of  any  assistance  to  you,  I 
trust  that  you  will  not  fail  to  let  me  know." 

"  I  thank  you,"  Brooks  answered.  "  I  shall  not 
require  any  assistance  from  you." 

Lord  Arranmore  winced  perceptibly.  Brooks,  who 
would  not  have  believed  him  capable  of  such  a  thing, 
for  a  moment  doubted  his  eyes. 

"  I  am  much  obliged  for  your  candour,"  Lord 
Arranmore  said,  coldly,  and  with  complete  self- 
recovery.  "  Don't  trouble  to  come  to  the  door. 
Good-evening." 

Brooks  was  alone.  He  sat  down  in  one  of  the  big 
easy-chairs,  and  for  a  moment  forgot  that  empty  stall 
next  to  Selina.  He  had  seen  the  first  sign  of  weakness 
in  a  man  whom  he  had  judged  to  be  wholly  and  en- 
tirely heartless. 


CHAPTER    III 

MARY   SCOTT'S   TWO   VISITORS 

"  T  AM  sure,"  he  said,  "  that  Selina  would  consider 
J_  this  most  improper." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  Mary  assured  him,  laugh- 
ing. "  It  was  one  of  the  first  things  she  mentioned. 
When  I  told  her  that  I  should  ask  any  one  to  tea  I 
liked  she  was  positively  indignant." 

"  It  is  hard  to  believe  that  you  are  cousins,"  he 
remarked. 

"  We  were  brought  up  very  differently." 

He  looked  around  him.  He  was  in  a  tiny  sitting- 
room  of  a  tiny  flat  high  up  in  a  great  building.  Out 
of  the  window  he  seemed  to  look  down  upon  the  Ferris 
wheel.  Inside  everything  was  cramped  but  cosy. 
Mary  Scott  sat  behind  the  tea-tray,  and  laughed  at 
his  expression. 

"  I  will  read  your  thoughts,"  she  exclaimed.  "  You 
are  wondering  how  you  will  get  out  of  this  room 
without  knocking  anything  over." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  answered,  "  I  was  wonder- 
ing how  I  ever  got  in." 

"  You  were  really  very  clever.  Now  do  have  some 
more  tea,  and  tell  me  all  the  news." 

"  I  will  have  the  tea,  if  you  please,"  he  answered, 
"  and  you  shall  have  the  news,  such  as  it  is." 


2io  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  First  of  all  then,"  she  said,  "I  hear  that  you  are 
leaving  Medchester,  giving  up  your  business  and 
coming  to  live  in  London,  and  that  you  have  had 
some  money  left  you.  Do  you  know  that  all  this 
sounds  very  mysterious  ?  " 

"  I  admit  it,"  he  answered,  slowly  stirring  his  tea. 
"  Yet  in  the  main  —  it  is  true." 

"  How  nice  to  hear  all  about  it,"  she  sighed,  con- 
tentedly. "  You  know  I  have  scarcely  had  a  word 
with  you  while  my  uncle  and  cousins  were  up.  Selina 
monopolized  you  most  disgracefully." 

He  looked  at  her  with  twinkling  eyes. 

"  Selina  was  very  amusing,"  he  said. 

"  You  seemed  to  find  her  so,"  she  answered.  "  But 
Selina  is  n't  here  now,  and  you  have  to  entertain  me. 
You  are  really  going  to  live  in  London  ?  " 

He  nodded. 

"  I  have  taken  rooms !  " 

"  Delightful.     Whereabouts  ?  " 

"  In  Jermyn  Street !  " 

"  And  are  you  going  to  practise?  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  I  shall  have  enough  to  live  on.  I  am  going 
to  study  social  subjects  and  politics  generally." 

"  You  are  going  into  Parliament  ?  "  she  exclaimed, 
breathlessly. 

"  Some  day,  perhaps,"  he  answered,  hesitatingly. 
"  If  I  can  find  a  constituency." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  think  I  rather  dislike  you,"  she 
said.  "  I  envy  you  most  hideously." 

He  laughed. 

"  What  an  evil  nature!  " 


MARY   SCOTT'S   TWO   VISITORS       211 

"  Well,  I  've  never  denied  it.  I  'm  dreadfully  en- 
vious of  people  who  have  the  chance  of  doing  things, 
whose  limitations  are  not  chalked  out  on  the  black- 
board before  them." 

"  Oh,  well,  you  yourself  are  not  at  Medchester 
now,"  he  reminded  her.  "  You  have  kicked  your 
own  limitation  away.  Literature  is  as  wide  a  field 
as  politics." 

"  That  is  true  enough,"  she  answered.  "  I  must 
not  grumble.  After  Medchester  this  is  elysium.  But 
literature  is  a  big  name  to  give  my  little  efforts.  I  'm 
just  a  helper  on  a  lady's  threepenny  paper,  and  be- 
tween you  and  me  I  don't  believe  they  think  much  of 
my  work  yet." 

He  laughed. 

"  Surely  they  have  n't  been  discouraging  you  ?  " 

"  No,  they  have  been  very  kind.  But  they  keep  on 
assuring  me  that  I  am  bound  to  improve,  and  the  way 
they  use  the  blue  pencil !  However,  it 's  only  the 
journalist's  part  they  go  for.  The  little  stories  are 
all  right  still." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  he  declared,  warmly.  "  I 
think  they  are  charming." 

"  How  nice  you  are,"  she  sighed.  "  No  wonder 
Selina  did  n't  like  going  home." 

He  looked  at  her  in  amused  wonder. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  "  you  are  getting  posi- 
tively frivolous.  I  don't  recognize  you.  I  never  saw 
such  a  change." 

She  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  laughing  heartily,  her 
eyes  bright,  her  beautiful  white  teeth  in  delightful 
evidence. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  it 's  the  sense  of  freedom,"  she 


212 

exclaimed.  "  It 's  delightful,  is  n't  it  ?  Medchester 
had  got  on  my  nerves.  I  hated  it.  One  saw  nothing 
but  the  ugly  side  of  life,  day  after  day.  It  was  hid- 
eously depressing.  Here  one  can  breathe.  There  's 
room  for  every  one." 

;<  The  change  agrees  with  you !  " 

"  Why  not.  I  feel  years  younger.  Think  how 
much  there  is  to  do,  and  see,  even  for  a  pauper  like 
myself  —  picture  galleries,  the  shops,  the  people,  the 
theatres." 

He  looked  at  her  thoughtfully. 

'"  Don't  think  me  a  prig,  will  you?  "  he  said,  "  but 
I  want  to  understand  you.  In  Medchester  you  used 
to  work  for  the  people  —  it  was  the  greater  part  of 
your  life.  You  are  not  giving  that  up  altogether,  are 
you?  " 

She  laughed  him  to  scorn. 

"Am  I  such  a  butterfly?  No,  I  hope  to  get  some 
serious  work  to  do,  and  I  am  looking  forward  to  it. 
I  have  a  letter  of  introduction  to  a  Mrs.  Capenhurst, 
whom  I  am  going  to  see  on  Sunday.  I  expect  to  learn 
a  lot  from  her.  I  was  very,  very  sorry  to  leave  my 
own  girls.  It  was  the  only  regret  I  had  in  leaving 
Medchester.  By  the  bye,  what  is  this  about  Mr. 
Henslow?" 

"  We  are  thinking  of  asking  him  to  resign,"  Brooks 
answered.  "  He  has  been  a  terrible  disappointment 
to  us."  1 

She  nodded. 

"  I  am  sorry.  From  his  speeches  he  seemed  such 
an  excellent  candidate." 

"  He  was  a  magnificent  candidate,"  Brooks  said 
ruefully,  "  but  a  shocking  Member.  I  am  afraid  what 


MARY   SCOTT'S   TWO   VISITORS       213 

I  heard  in  the  City  the  other  day  must  have  some 
truth  in  it.  They  say  that  he  only  wanted  to  be  able 
to  write  M.P.  after  his  name  for  this  last  session  to 
get  on  the  board  of  two  new  companies.  He  will 
never  sit  for  Medchester  again." 

"  He  was  at  the  hotel  the  other  day,  was  n't  he  ?  " 
Mary  asked,  "with  you  and  uncle?  What  has  he 
to  say  for  himself?  " 

"  Well,  he  shelters  himself  behind  the  old  fudge 
about  duty  to  his  Party,"  Brooks  answered.  "  You 
see  the  Liberals  only  just  scraped  in  last  election  be- 
cause of  the  war  scandals,  and  their  majority  is  too 
small  for  them  to  care  about  any  of  the  rank  and 
file  introducing  any  disputative  measures.  Still  that 
scarcely  affects  the  question.  He  won  his  seat  on 
certain  definite  pledges,  and  if  he  persists  in  his  pres- 
ent attitude,  we  shall  ask  him  at  once  to  resign." 

"  You  still  keep  up  your  interest  in  Medchester, 
then?" 

"  Why,  yes !  "  he  answered.  "  Between  ourselves, 
if  I  could  choose,  I  would  rather,  when  the  time 
comes,  stand  for  Medchester  than  anywhere." 

"  I  am  glad !  I  should  like  to  see  you  Member  for 
Medchester.  Do  you  know,  even  now,  although  I 
am  so  happy,  I  cannot  think  about  the  last  few 
months  there  without  a  shudder.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  things  were  getting  worse  and  worse.  The  peo- 
ple's faces  haunt  me  sometimes." 

He  looked  up  at  her  sympathetically. 

"  If  you  have  once  lived  with  them,"  he  said,  "  once 
really  understood,  you  never  can  forget.  You  can 
travel  or  amuse  yourself  in  any  way,  but  their  faces 
are  always  coming  before  you,  their  voices  seem 


214  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

always  in  your  ears.  It  is  the  one  eternal  sadness  of 
life.  And  the  strangest  part  of  it  is,  that  just  as  you 
who  have  once  really  understood  can  never  forget, 
so  it  is  the  most  difficult  thing  in  the  world  to  make 
those  people  understand  who  have  not  themselves 
lived  and  toiled  amongst  them.  It  is  a  cry  which  you 
cannot  translate,  but  if  once  you  have  heard  it,  it  will 
follow  you  from  the  earth  to  the  stars." 

"  You  too,  then,"  she  said,  "  have  some  of  the  old 
aim  at  heart.  You  are  not  going  to  immerse  yourself 
wholly  in  politics  ?  " 

"  My  studies,"  he  said,  "  will  be  in  life.  It  is  not 
from  books  that  I  hope  to  gain  experience.  I  want 
to  get  a  little  nearer  to  the  heart  of  the  thing.  You 
and  I  may  easily  come  across  one  another,  even  in 
this  great  city." 

"  You,"  she  said,  "  are  going  to  watch,  to  observe, 
to  trace  the  external  only  that  you  may  understand 
the  internal.  But  I  am  going  to  work  on  my  hands 
and  knees." 

"  And  you  think  that  I  am  going  to  play  the 
dilettante?  " 

"  Not  altogether.  But  you  will  want  to  pass  from 
one  scheme  to  another  to  see  the  inner  workings  of 
all.  I  shall  be  content  to  find  occupation  in  any 
one." 

"  I  shall  be  coming  to  you,"  he  said,  "  for  infor- 
mation and  help." 

"  I  doubt  it,"  she  answered,  cheerfully.  "  Never 
mind!  It  is  pleasant  to  build  castles,  and  we  may 
yet  find  ourselves  working  side  by  side." 

He  suddenly  looked  at  her. 

"  I  have  answered  all  your  questions,"   he  said. 


MARY   SCOTT'S   TWO   VISITORS       215 

"  There  is  something  about  you  which  I  should  like 
to  know." 

"  I  am  sure  you  shall." 

"  Lord  Arranmore  came  to  me  when  I  was  staying 
at  the  Metropole  with  your  uncle  and  cousin.  He 
wished  me  to  use  my  influence  with  you  to  induce  you 
to  accept  a  certain  sum  of  money  which  it  seemed  that 
you  had  already  declined." 

"Well?" 

"  Of  course  I  refused.  In  the  first  place,  as  I  told 
him,  I  was  not  aware  that  I  possessed  any  influence 
over  you.  And  in  the  second  I  had  every  confidence 
in  your  own  judgment." 

She  was  suddenly  very  thoughtful. 

"  My  own  judgment,"  she  repeated.  "  I  am 
afraid  that  I  have  lost  a  good  deal  of  faith  in  that 
lately." 

"Why?" 

"  I  have  learned  to  repent  of  that  impulsive  visit  of 
mine  to  Enton." 

"Again  why?" 

"  I  was  mad  with  rage  against  Lord  Arranmore. 
I  think  that  I  was  wrong.  It  was  many  years  ago, 
and  he  has  repented." 

Brooks  smiled  faintly.  The  idea  of  Lord  Arran- 
more repenting  of  anything  appealed  in  some  measure 
to  his  sense  of  humour. 

"  Then  I  am  afraid  that  I  did  him  some  great 
harm  in  "accusing  him  like  that  —  openly.  He  has 
seemed  to  me  since  like  an  altered  man.  Tell 
me,  those  others  who  were  there  —  they  believed 
me?" 

"  Yes." 


216  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  It  did  him  harm  —  with  the  lady,  the  handsome 
woman  who  was  playing  billiards  with  him?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Was  he  engaged  to  her?  " 

"  No !  He  proposed  to  her  afterwards,  and  she 
refused  him." 

Her  eyes  were  suddenly  dim. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  she  said. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  quietly,  "  that  you  need  not  be. 
You  probably  saved  her  a  good  deal  of  unhappiness." 

She  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"Why  are  you  so  bitter  against  Lord  Arranmore?" 
she  asked. 

"  I  ?  "  he  laughed.  "  I  am  not  bitter  against  him. 
Only  I  believe  him  to  be  a  man  without  heart  or 
conscience  or  principles." 

"That  is  your  opinion  —  really?" 

"Really!     Decidedly." 

"  Then  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  she  answered. 

"Why  not?" 

"  Simply  that  I  don't." 

"  Excellent !  But  you  have  reasons  as  well  as 
convictions  ?  " 

"  Perhaps.  Why,  for  instance,  is  he  so  anxious  for 
me  to  have  this  money?  That  must  be  a  matter  of 
conscience?  " 

"  Not  necessarily.  An  accident  might  bring  his 
Montreal  career  to  light.  His  behaviour  towards  you 
would  be  an  excellent  defence." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  He  is  n't  mean  enough  to  think  so  far  ahead  for 
his  own  advantage.  Villain  or  paragon,  he  is  on  a 
large  scale,  your  Lord  Arranmore." 


MARY   SCOTT'S   TWO  VISITORS       217 

"  He  has  had  the  good  fortune,"  Brooks  said, 
with  a  note  of  satire  in  his  tone,  "  to  attract  your 
sympathies." 

"  Why  not  ?  I  struck  hard  enough  at  him,  and  he 
has  borne  me  no  ill-will.  He  even  made  friends  with 
Selina  and  my  uncle  to  induce  me  to  accept  his  — 
well,  conscience  money." 

"  I  need  not  ask  you  what  the  result  was,"  Brooks 
said.  "  You  declined  it,  of  course." 

She  looked  at  him  thoughtfully. 

"  I  refused  it  at  first,  as  you  know,"  she  said. 
"  Since  then,  well,  I  have  wavered." 

He  looked  at  her  blankly. 

"  You  mean  —  that  you  have  contemplated  —  ac- 
cepting it?  " 

"  Why  not?  There  is  reason  in  it.  I  do  not  say 
that  I  have  accepted  it,  but  at  any  rate  I  see  nothing 
which  should  make  you  look  upon  my  possible  accept- 
ance as  a  heinous  thing." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  May  I  ask  you  then  what  the  position  is?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you.  Lord  Arranmore  is  coming  to  me 
perhaps  this  afternoon  for  my  answer.  I  asked  him 
for  a  few  days  to  think  it  over." 

"  And  your  decision  —  is  it  ready?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  think  it  is,"  she  admitted.  "  To  tell 
you  the  truth,  I  shall  not  decide  until  he  is  actually 
here  —  until  I  have  heard  just  how  he  speaks  of  it." 

He  got  up  and  stood  for  a  moment  looking  out  of 
the  window.  Then  he  turned  suddenly  towards  her 
with  outstretched  hand. 

"  I  am  going  —  Miss  Scott.     Good-afternoon." 

She  rose  and  held  out  her  hand. 


218  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"Aren't  you  —  a  little  abrupt?"  she  asked. 

"  Perhaps  I  am.  I  think  that  it  is  better  that  I 
should  go  away  now.  There  are  reasons  why  I  do 
not  want  to  talk  about  Lord  Arranmore,  or  discuss 
this  matter  with  you,  and  if  I  stayed  I  might  do  both. 
Will  you  dine  with  me  somewhere  on  Friday  night? 
I  will  come  and  fetch  you." 

"  Of  course  I  will.  Do  be  careful  how  you  walk. 
About  7.30." 

"  I  will  be  here  by  then,"  he  answered. 

On  the  last  flight  of  stone  steps  he  came  face  to 
face  with  Lord  Arranmore,  who  nodded  and  pointed 
upwards  with  his  walking-stick. 

"How  much  of  this  sort  of  thing?"  he  asked, 
dryly. 

"  Ten  storeys,"  Brooks  answered,  and  passed  out 
into  the  street. 

Lord  Arranmore  looked  after  him  —  watched  him 
until  he  was  out  of  sight.  Then  he  stood  irresolute 
for  several  moments,  tapping  his  boots. 

"  Damned  young  fool !  "  he  muttered  at  last ;  and 
began  the  ascent. 


CHAPTER    IV 


dear  Miss  Scott,"  Lord  Arranmore  said, 
settling  himself  in  the  most  comfortable 
of  her  fragile  easy-chairs,  and  declining  tea.  "  I  can- 
not fail  to  perceive  that  my  cause  is  hopeless.  The 
united  efforts  of  myself  and  your  worthy  relatives 
appear  to  be  powerless  to  unearth  a  single  grain  of 
common-sense  in  your  —  er  —  pardon  me  —  singu- 
larly obstinate  disposition." 

A  subdued  smile  played  at  the  corners  of  her 
mouth. 

"I  am  delighted  that  you  are  convinced,  Lord 
Arranmore,"  she  said.  "  It  will  save  us  both  a  good 
deal  of  time  and  breath." 

"  Well  —  as  to  that  I  am  not  so  sure,"  he  answered, 
deliberately.  "  You  forget  that  there  is  still  an  im- 
portant matter  to  be  decided." 

She  looked  at  him  questioningly. 

"  The  disposal  of  the  money,  of  course,"  he  said. 

"  The  disposal  of  it  ?  But  that  has  nothing  to  do 
with  me !  "  she  declared.  "  I  refuse  to  touch  it  —  to 
have  anything  to  do  with  it." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  You  see,"  he  explained,  "  I  have  placed  it,  or 
rather  my  solicitors  have,  in  trust.  Actually  you  may 
decline,  as  you  are  doing,  to  have  anything  to  do 


220  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

with  it  —  legally  you  cannot  avoid  your  responsibil- 
ities. That  money  cannot  be  touched  without  your 
signature." 

She  laughed  a  little  indignantly. 

"  Then  you  had  better  withdraw  it  from  trust,  or 
whatever  you  call  it,  at  once.  If  it  was  there  until  I 
was  eighty  I  should  never  touch  it." 

"  I  understand  that  perfectly,"  Lord  Arranmore 
said.  "  You  have  refused  it.  Very  well !  What  are 
we  going  to  do  with  it?  " 

"  Put  it  back  where  it  came  from,  of  course,"  she 
answered. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  by  signing  several  papers  that 
might  be  managed.  In  that  case  I  should  distribute  it 
amongst  the  various  public-houses  in  the  East  End  to 
provide  drinks  for  the  thirstiest  of  their  customers." 

"  If  you  think  that,"  she  said,  scornfully,  "  a  repu- 
table use  to  make  of  your  money " 

He  held  out  his  hand. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Scott.    Our  money !  " 

"  The  money,"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  repeat,  the 
money.  Well,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said 
about  it." 

"  Will  you  sign  the  papers  which  authorize  me  to 
distribute  the  money  in  this  way?" 

She  thought  for  a  moment. 

"No;  I  will  not." 

"  Exactly.  You  would  be  very  foolish  and  very 
untrue  to  your  principles  if  you  did.  So  you  see,  this 
sum  is  not  to  be  foisted  altogether  upon  me,  for  there 
is  no  doubt  that  I  should  misuse  it.  Now  I  believe 
that  if  you  were  to  give  the  matter  a  little  considera- 
tion you  could  hit  upon  a  more  reasonable  manner  of 


A   MARQUIS    ON    MATRIMONY         221 

laying  out  this  sum.  Don't  interrupt  me,  please.  My 
own  views  as  to  charity  you  know.  You  however 
look  at  the  matter  from  an  altogether  different  point 
of  view.  Let  us  leave  it  where  it  is  for  the  moment. 
Something  may  occur  to  you  within  the  next  few 
months.  Don't  let  it  be  a  hospital,  if  you  can  help  it 
—  something  altogether  original  would  be  best.  Set 
your  brain  to  work.  I  shall  be  at  your  service  at  any 
moment." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  began  slowly  to  collect  his 
belongings.  Then  their  eyes  met,  and  she  burst  out 
laughing  —  he  too  smiled. 

"  You  are  very  ingenious,  Lord  Arranmore,"  she 
said. 

"  It  is  my  conscience,"  he  assured  her.  "  It  is  out 
of  gear  to  the  tune  of  three  thousand." 

"  I  don't  believe  in  the  conscience,"  she  answered. 
"  This  is  sheer  obstinacy.  You  have  made  up  your 
mind  that  I  should  be  interested  in  that  money  some- 
how, and  you  can't  bear  to  suffer  defeat." 

"  I  am  an  old  man,"  he  said,  "  and  you  are  a  young 
woman.  Let  us  leave  it  where  it  is  for  a  while.  I 
have  an  idea  of  the  sort  of  life  which  you  are  planning1 
for  yourself.  Believe  me,  that  before  you  have  lived 
here  for  many  months  you  will  be  willing  to  give 
years  of  your  life,  years  of  your  labour  and  your 
youth,  to  throw  yourself  into  a  struggle  which  with- 
out money  is  hopeless.  Remember  that  there  was  a 
time  when  I  too  was  young.  I  too  saw  these  things 
as  you  and  Brooks  see  them  to-day.  I  do  not  wish  to 
preach  pessimism  to  you.  I  fought  and  was  worsted. 
So  will  you  be.  The  whole  thing  is  a  vast  chimera, 
a  jest  of  the  God  you  have  made  for  yourself.  But 


222  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

as  long  as  the  world  lasts  the  young  will  have  to  buy 
knowledge  —  as  I  have  bought  it.  Don't  go  into 
the  fray  empty-handed  —  it  will  only  prolong  the 
suffering." 

"  You  speak,"  she  protested,  gently,  "  as  though  it 
were  impossible  to  do  good." 

"  It  is  absolutely  and  entirely  impossible  to  do  good 
by  any  means  which  you  and  Brooks  and  the  whole 
army  of  your  fellow-philanthropists  have  yet  evoked," 
he  answered,  with  a  sudden  fierce  note  in  his  tone. 
"  Don't  think  that  I  speak  to  you  as  a  cynic,  one  who 
loiters  on  the  edge  of  the  cauldron  and  peers  in  to 
gratify  cravings  for  sensation.  I  have  been  there, 
down  in  the  thick  of  it,  there  where  the  mud  is  as 
black  as  hell  —  bottomless  as  eternity.  I  was  young 
—  as  you  —  mad  with  enthusiasm.  I  had  faith, 
strength,  belief.  I  meant  to  cleanse  the  world.  I 
worked  till  the  skin  hung  on  my  bones.  I  gave  all 
that  I  had  —  youth  —  gifts  —  money.  And,  do  you 
know  what  I  was  doing?  I  was  swimming  against 
the  tide  of  natural  law,  stronger  than  all  mankind, 
unconquerable,  eternal.  There  wasn't  the  smallest 
corner  of  the  world  the  better  for  my  broken  life. 
There  was  n't  a  child,  a  man,  or  a  woman  content  to 
grasp  my  hand  and  climb  out.  There  were  plenty 
who  mocked  me.  But  they  fell  back  again.  They 
fell  back  always." 

"  Oh,  but  you  can't  tell  that,"  she  cried.  "  You 
can't  be  sure." 

"  You  can  be  as  sure  of  it  as  of  life  itself,"  he 
answered.  "  Come,  take  my  advice.  I  know.  I  can 
save  you  a  broken  youth  —  a  broken  heart.  Keep 
away  from  there."  - 


A   MARQUIS   ON   MATRIMONY 

*•  < 

He  pointed  out  of  the  window  eastwards.  4 

"  You  can  be  charitable  like  the  others,  subscribe  to 
societies,  visit  the  sick,  read  the  Bible,  play  at  it  as 
long  as  you  like  —  but  keep  away  from  the  real 
thing.  If  you  feel  the  fever  in  your  veins  —  fly.  Go 
abroad,  study  art,  literature,  music  —  anything. 
Only  don't  listen  to  that  cry.  It  will  draw  you  — 
against  your  will  even.  But  not  you  nor  the  whole 
world  of  women,  or  the  world  full  of  gold,  will  ever 
stop  it.  It  is  the  everlasting  legacy  to  the  world  of 
outraged  nature " 

He  went  swiftly  and  silently,  leaving  her  motion- 
less. She  saw  him  far  down  on  the  pavement  below 
step  into  his  brougham,  pausing  for  a  moment  to  light 
a  cigarette.  And  half-an-hour  later  he  walked  with 
elastic  tread  into  Mr.  Ascough's  office. 

Mr.  Ascough  greeted  him  with  an  inquiring  smile. 
Lord  Arranmore  nodded  and  sat  down. 

"  You  were  quite  right,"  he  announced.  "  The 
tongues  of  men  or  of  angels  would  n't  move  her. 
Never  mind.  She's  going  to  use  the  money  for 
charity." 

"  Well,  that 's  something,  at  any  rate,"  Mr.  As- 
cough remarked. 

"  The  eloquence,"  Lord  Arranmore  said,  lazily, 
"which  I  have  wasted  upon  that  young  woman  would 
entrance  the  House  of  Lords.  By  the  bye,  Ascough, 
I  am  going  to  take  my  seat  next  week." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,  your  lordship." 

"Yes,  it's  good  news  for  the  country,  isn't  it?" 
Lord  Arranmore  remarked.  "I  have  not  quite  de- 
cided what  my  particular  line  shall  be,  but  I  have  no 
doubt  but  that  the  papers  will  all  be  calling  me  a 


224  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS. 

I  y<fcW»»«  .  ,..  , 

welcome  addition  to  that  august  assembly  before 

long.     I  believe  that 's  what 's  the  matter  with  me. 

I  want  to  make  a  speech.    Do  you  remember  me  at 

the  Bar,  Ascough  ?    Could  n't  keep  me  down,  could 

they?" 

.     Mr.  Ascough  smiled. 

"  You  were  rather  fond  of  being  on  your  feet ! " 
he  admitted. 

Lord  Arranmore  sighed  regretfully. 

"  And  to  think  that  I  might  have  been  Lord  High 
Chancellor  by  now,"  he  remarked.  "  Good-bye, 
Ascough." 

Later,  at  the  reception  of  a  Cabinet  Minister,  Lord 
Arranmore  came  across  Hennibul  talking  with  half- 
a-dozen  other  men.  He  detached  himself  at  once. 

"  This  is  odd,"  he  remarked,  with  a  whimsical 
smile.  "  What  the  dickens  are  you  doing  in  this 
respectable  household,  Arranmore?  You  look  like 
a  lost  sheep." 

Lord  Arranmore  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  've  decided  to  go  in  for  something,"  he  said ; 
"  politics  or  society  or  something  of  that  sort.  What 
do  you  recommend  ?  " 

"  Supper !  "  Mr.  Hennibul  answered,  promptly. 

"  Come  on  then,"  Lord  Arranmore  assented. 
"  One  of  those  little  tables  in  the  far  room,  eh  ?  " 

"  The  pate  here  is  delicious,"  Mr.  Hennibul  said ; 
"but  for  Heaven's  sake  leave  the  champagne  alone. 
There  's  some  decent  hock.  You  '11  excuse  my  point- 
ing out  these  little  things  to  you,  but,  of  course,  you 
don't  know  the  runs  yet.  I  '11  give  you  a  safe  tip 
while  I  'm  about  it.  The  Opposition  food  is  beastly, 


A   MARQUIS   ON   MATRIMONY        225 

but  the  wine  is  all  right  —  Pommery  and  Heidsieck, 
most  of  it,  and  the  right  years.  The  Government 
food  now  is  good,  but  the  wine,  especially  the  cham- 
pagne, is  positively  unholy." 

"  One  should  eat  then  with  the  Government,  and 
drink  with  the  Opposition,"  Lord  Arranmore  re- 
marked. 

"Or,  better  still,"  Mr.  Hennibul  said,  "do  both 
with  the  Speaker.  By  the  bye,  did  you  know  that 
they  are  going  to  make  me  a  judge?" 

"  I  heard  that  your  friends  wanted  to  get  rid  of 
you !  "  Arranmore  answered. 

"  To  make  yourself  obnoxious  —  thoroughly  ob- 
noxious," Mr.  Hennibul  murmured,  "  is  the  sure 
road  to  advancement." 

"  That 's  right,  give  me  a  few  tips,"  Lord  Arran- 
more begged,  sipping  his  wine. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  don't  know  what  you  're  going^ 
in  for  yet" 

"  Neither  do  I.  What  about  the  stage?  I  used  to 
be  rather  good  at  private  theatricals.  Elderly  Wynd- 
hamy  parts,  you  know." 

Mr.  Hennibul  shook  his  head. 

"  Twenty  years  too  late,"  he  declared.  "  Even  the 
suburbs  turn  up  their  noses  at  a  lord  now." 

"  I  must  do  something,"  Arranmore  declared, 
meditatively. 

"  Don't  see  the  necessity,"  Hennibul  remarked. 

Lord  Arranmore  lifted  his  glass  and  looked 
thoughtfully  at  the  wine  for  a  moment. 

"  Ah,  well,"  he  said,  "  you  were  born  lazy,  and  I 
was  born  restless.  That  is  the  reason  you  have  done, 
something,  and  I  haven't." 

15 


226  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  If  you  want  my  advice  —  my  serious  advice,"  the 
K.  C.  said,  quietly,  "  you  will  make  yourself  a  nui- 
sance to  that  right  woman,  whoever  she  is,  until  she 
marries  you  —  if  only  to  get  rid  of  you." 

"  All  sorts  of  things  in  the  way,"  Lord  Arran- 
more  declared.  "  You  see,  I  was  married  — 
abroad." 

Mr.  Hennibul  looked  up  quickly. 

"Nonsense!" 

"  Quite  true,  I  assure  you." 

"Is  she  alive?" 

"  No  —  but  her  son  is." 

"Great  Heavens.    Why,  he's  Lord  Kingston?" 

"  Of  course  he  is." 

"How  old  is  he?" 

"  Twenty-eight  —  or  somewhere  thereabouts." 

"What  is  he  doing?  Where  is  he?  Why  don't 
we  know  him  ?  " 

"  He  does  n't  approve  of  me,"  Lord  Arranmore 
said,  "  Fact,  really !  We  are  scarcely  on  speaking 
terms." 

"Why  not?" 

"Says  I  deserted  his  mother.  So  I  did!  Played 
the  blackguard  altogether.  Left  'em  both  to  starve, 
or  next  door  to  it ! " 

Mr.  Hennibul  fetched  out  his  handkerchief  and 
dabbed  his  forehead. 

"  You  are  serious,  Arranmore  ?  " 

"  Rather !  You  would  n't  expect  me  to  be  friv- 
olous on  this  hock." 

"  That  young  man  must  be  talked  to,"  Mr. 
Hennibul  declared.  "  He  ought  to  be  filling  his 
proper  place  in  the  world.  It 's  no  use  carrying  on 


A   MARQUIS   ON   MATRIMONY         227 

a  grudge  against  his  own  father.  Let  me  have  a  try 
at  him." 

"  No !  "  Lord  Arranmore  said,  quietly.  "  I  am 
obliged  to  you,  Hennibul,  but  the  matter  is  one  which 
does  not  admit  of  outside  interference,  however 
kindly.  Besides,  the  boy  is  right.  I  wilfully  deserted 
both  him  and  his  mother,  and  she  died  during  my 
absence.  My  life,  whilst  away  from  them,  was  the 
sort  one  forgets  —  or  tries  to  —  and  he  knows  about 
it.  Further,  when  I  returned  to  England  I  was  two 
years  before  I  took  the  trouble  to  go  and  see  him. 
I  merely  alluded  to  these  domestic  matters  that  you 
might  not  wholly  misjudge  the  situation." 

Mr.  Hennibul  went  on  with  his  supper  in  silence. 
Lord  Arranmore,  whose  appetite  had  soon  failed  him, 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  watched  the  people  in 
the  further  room. 

"  This  rather  puts  me  off  politics,"  he  remarked, 
after  a  while.  "  I  don't  like  the  look  of  the 
people." 

"  Oh,  you  '11  get  in  for  the  select  crushers,"  Mr. 
Hennibul  said.  "  This  is  a  rank  and  file  affair.  You 
must  n't  judge  by  appearances.  But  why  must  you 
specialize?  Take  my  advice.  Don't  go  in  specially 
for  politics,  or  society,  or  sport.  Mix  them  all  up. 
Be  cosmopolitan  and  commonplace." 

"  Upon  my  word,  Hennibul,  you  are  a  genius," 
Arranmore  declared,  "  and  yonder  goes  my  good 
fairy." 

He  sprang  up  and  disappeared  into  the  further 
room. 

"  Lady  Caroom,"  he  exclaimed,  bending  over  her 
shoulder.  "  I  never  suspected  it  of  you." 


228  A   PRINCE  OF   SINNERS 

She  started  slightly  —  she  was  silent  perhaps  for 
the  fraction  of  a  second.  Then  she  looked  up  with 
a  bright  smile,  meeting  him  on  his  own  ground. 

"  But  of  you,"  she  cried,  "  it  is  incredible.  Come 
at  once  and  explain." 


CHAPTER   V 

BROOKS   ENLISTS   A    RECRUIT 

BROOKS  had  found  a  small  restaurant  in  the 
heart  of  fashionable  London,  where  the  ap- 
pointments and  decorations  were  French,  and  the 
waiters  were  not  disposed  to  patronize.  Of  the  cook- 
ing neither  he  nor  Mary  Scott  in  those  days  was  a 
critic.  Nevertheless  she  protested  against  the  length 
of  the  dinner  which  he  ordered. 

"I  want  an  excuse,"  he  declared,  laying  down  the 
carte,  "  for  a  good  long  chat.  We  shall  be  too  late 
for  the  theatre,  so  we  may  as  well  resign  ourselves 
to  an  hour  or  so  of  one  another's  society." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  A  very  apt  excuse  for  unwarrantable  greediness," 
she  declared.  "  Surely  we  can  talk  without  eating?  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  You  do  not  smoke,  and  you  do  not  drink 
liqueurs,"  he  remarked.  "  Now  I  have  noticed  that 
it  is  simply  impossible  for  one  to  sit  before  an  empty 
table  after  dinner  and  not  feel  that  one  ought  to 
go.  Let  the  waiter  take  your  cape.  You  will  find 
the  room  warm." 

"  Do  you  remember,"  she  asked  him,  "  the  first 
night  we  dined  together?" 

He  looked  at  her  with  twinkling  eyes. 


230  A    PRINCE   OF   SINN1RS 

"  Rather !  It  was  my  introduction  to  your  uncle's 
household.  Selina  sat  on  my  left,  and  Louise  on  my 
right.  You  sat  opposite,  tired  and  disagreeable." 

"  I  was  tired  —  and  I  am  always  disagreeable." 

"  I  have  noticed  it,"  he  agreed,  equably.  "  I  hope 
you  like  oysters." 

"  If  Selina  were  to  see  us  now,"  she  remarked, 
with  a  sudden  humorous  smile,  "  how  shocked  she 
would  be." 

"  What  a  little  far-away  world  it  seems  down 
there,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  "  After  all,  I  am 
glad  that  I  have  not  to  live  in  Medchester  all  my 
life." 

"  You  have  been  there  this  afternoon,  have  n't 
you?" 

"  Yes.  Henslow  is  giving  us  a  lot  of  trouble.  I 
am  afraid  we  shall  lose  the  seat  next  election." 

"  Do  you  mind  ?  " 

"  Not  much.  I  am  no  party  politician.  I  want  to 
see  Medchester  represented  by  a  man  who  will  go 
there  with  a  sense  of  political  proportion,  and  I  don't 
care  whether  he  calls  himself  Liberal,  or  Radical,  or 
Conservative,  or  Unionist." 

"  Please  explain  what  you  mean  by  that,"  she 
begged. 

"  Why,  yes.  I  mean  a  man  who  will  understand 
how  enormously  more  important  is  the  welfare  of 
our  own  people,  the  people  of  whom  we  are  making 
slaves,  than  this  feverish  Imperialism  and  war  cant. 
Mind,  I  think  our  patriotism  should  be  a  thing  wholly 
understood.  It  need  n't  be  talked  about.  It  makes 
showy  fireworks  for  the  platform,  but  it 's  all  unne- 
cessary and  to  my  mind  very  undignified.  If  only 


BROOKS    ENLISTS   A   RECRUIT        231' 

people  would  take  that  for  granted  and  go  on  to 
something  worth  while." 

"  Are  things  any  better  in  Medchester  just  now?  " 
she  asked. 

"  On  the  surface,  yes,  but  on  the  surface  only. 
More  factories  are  running  half-time,  but  after  all 
what  does  that  mean  ?  It 's  slow  starvation.  A  man 
can't  live  and  keep  a  family  on  fifteen  shillings  a 
week,  even  if  his  wife  earns  a  little.  He  can't  do 
it  in  a  dignified  manner,  and  with  cleanliness  and 
health.  That  is  what  he  has  a  right  to.  That  is 
what  the  next  generation  will  demand.  He  should 
have  room  to  expand.  Cleanliness,  air,  fresh  food. 
Every  man  and  woman  who  is  born  into  the  world 
has  a  God-given  right  to  these,  and  there  are  mil- 
lions in  Medchester,  Manchester,  and  all  the  great 
cities  who  are  denied  all  three." 

"  So  all  Henslow's  great  schemes,  his  Royal  Com- 
missions, his  Protection  Duties,  his  great  Housing 
Bill,  have  come  to  nothing  then  ?  "  she  remarked. 

"  To  less  than  nothing,"  he  answered,  gloomily. 
"  The  man  was  a  fraud.  He  is  not  worth  attempt- 
ing to  bully.  He  is  a  puppet  politician  of  a  type  that 
ought  to  have  been  dead  and  buried  generations  ago. 
Enoch  Strone  is  our  only  hope  in  the  House  now. 
He  is  a  strong  man,  and  he  has  hold  of  the  truth." 

"Have  they  decided  upon  Henslow's  successor?" 
she  asked. 

"  Not  yet,"  he  answered. 

She  looked  up  at  him. 

"  I  heard  from  uncle  this  morning,"  she  said,  smil- 
ing meaningly. 
\  He  shook  his  head. 


232  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

^ 

"  Well,  it  was  mentioned,"  he  said,  "  but  I  would 
not  hear  of  it.  I  am  altogether  too  young  and  in- 
experienced. I  want  to  live  with  the  people  for  a 
year  or  two  first.  That  is  why  I  am  glad  to  get  to 
London." 

"With  the  people?"  she  asked,  "in  Jermyn 
Street?" 

He  laughed  good-humouredly. 

"  I  have  also  lodgings  in  the  Bethnal  Green  Road," 
he  said.  "  I  took  possession  of  them  last  week." 

"Anywhere  near  Merry's  Corner?"  she  asked. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  Merry's  Corner?  "  he 
exclaimed,  with  uplifted  eyebrows.  "  Yes,  my  rooms 
are  nearly  opposite,  at  the  corner  of  the  next  street." 

"  I  've  been  down  there  once  or  twice  lately,"  she 
said.  "  There  's  a  mission-hall  just  there,  and  a  girl 
named  Kate  Stuart  gave  me  a  letter  to  go  three  times 
a  week." 

He  nodded. 

"  I  know  the  place.  Week-night  services  and  hymn- 
singing  and  preaching.  A  cold,  desolate  affair  alto- 
gether. I  'm  thankful  I  went  in  there,  though,  for 
it 's  given  me  an  idea." 

"Yes?" 

"  I  'm  going  to  start  a  mission  myself." 

"  Go  on." 

"  On  a  new  principle.  The  first  thing  will  be  that 
there  will  be  no  religious  services  whatever.  I  won't 
have  a  clergyman  connected  with  it.  It  will  be  in- 
tended solely  for  the  benefit  of  the  people  from  a 
temporal  point  of  view." 

"  You  are  going  a  long  way,"  she  said.  "  What 
about  Sundays  ?  " 


BROOKS   ENLISTS   A   RECRUIT        233 

"  There  will  be  a  very  short  service  for  the  mis- 
sion helpers  only.  No  one  will  be  asked  from  out- 
side at  all.  If  they  come  it  will  be  as  a  favour. 
Directly  it  is  over  the  usual  week-day  procedure  will 
go  on." 

"  And  what  is  that  to  be?  " 

Brooks  smiled  a  little  doubtfully. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  've  got  the  main  idea  in  my 
head,  but  all  the  details  want  thinking  out.  I  want 
the  place  to  be  a  sort  of  help  bureau,  to  give  the 
people  living  in  a  certain  street  or  couple  of  streets 
somewhere  to  go  for  advice  and  help  in  cases  of 
emergency.  There  will  be  no  money  given  away, 
under  any  consideration  —  only  food,  clothing,  and, 
if  they  are  asked  for,  books.  I  shall  have  half-a- 
dozen  bathrooms,  and  the  people  who  come  regularly 
for  advice  and  help  will  have  to  use  them  and  to 
keep  their  houses  clean.  There  will  be  no  distinc- 
tion as  to  character.  We  shall  help  the  drunkards 
and  the  very  worst  of  them  just  the  same  as  the 
others  if  they  apply.  If  we  get  enough  helpers  there 
will  be  plenty  of  branches  we  can  open.  I  should 
like  to  have  a  children's  branch,  for  instance  —  one 
or  two  women  will  take  the  children  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood in  hand  and  bathe  them  every  day.  As  we 
get  to  know  the  people  better  and  appreciate  their 
special  needs  other  things  will  suggest  themselves. 
But  I  want  them  to  feel  that  they  have  some  place 
to  fall  back  upon.  We  shall  be  frightfully  hum- 
bugged, robbed,  cheated,  and  deceived  —  at  first.  I 
fancy  that  after  a  time  that  will  wear  itself  out." 

"  It  is  a  fascinating  idea,"  she  said,  thoughtfully, 
"  but  to  carry  it  out  in  any  way  thoroughly  you 


234  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

want  a  great  many  helpers  and  a  great  deal  of 
money." 

"  I  have  enough  to  start  it,"  he  said,  "  and  when 
it  is  really  going  and  improving  itself  I  shall  go  out 
and  ask  for  subscriptions — big  ones,  you  know,  from 
the  right  sort  of  people.  You  can  always  get  money 
if  you  can  show  that  it  is  to  be  well  spent." 

"  And  what  about  the  helpers?  " 

"  Well,  I  know  of  a  few,"  he  said,  "  who  I  think 
would  come  in,  and  there  is  one  to  whom  I  would 
have  to  pay  a  small  salary." 

"  I  could  come  in  the  afternoons,"  she  said. 

"  Capital !  But  are  you  sure,"  he  said,  after  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation,  "  that  it  is  quite  fair  to  yourself?  " 

"  Oh,  I  can  manage  with  my  morning's  salary," 
she  answered,  laughing.  "  I  shan't  starve.  Besides, 
I  can  always  burn  a  little  midnight  oil." 

A  waiter  stood  at  their  table  for  a  moment,  deftly 
carving  some  new  dish,  and  Brooks,  leaning  back  in 
his  chair,  glanced  critically  at  his  companion.  In  his 
judgment  she  represented  something  in  womankind 
essentially  of  the  durable  type.  He  appreciated  her 
good  looks,  the  air  with  which  she  wore  her  simple 
clothes,  her  large  full  eyes,  her  wide,  gently-humorous 
mouth,  and  the  hair  parted  in  the  middle,  and  rip- 
pling away  towards  her  ears.  A  frank  companion- 
able woman,  whose  eyes  had  never  failed  to  look  into 
his,  in  whom  he  had  never  at  any  time  seen  a  single 
shadow  of  embarrassment.  It  occurred  to  him  just 
at  that  moment  that  never  since  he  had  known  her 
had  he  seen  her  interested  to  the  slightest  degree  in 
any  man.  He  looked  back  at  her  thoughtfully.  She 
was  young,  good-looking,  too  catholic  in  her  views 


BROOKS   ENLISTS   A   RECRUIT        235 

of  life  and  its  possibilities  to  refuse  in  any  way  to 
recognize  its  inevitable  tendencies.  Yet  he  told  him- 
self complacently  as  he  sipped  his  wine  and  watched 
her  gazing  with  amused  interest  at  the  little  groups 
of  people  about  the  place,  that  there  must  be  in  her 
composition  a  lack  of  sentiment.  Never  for  a  second 
in  their  intercourse  had  she  varied  from  her  usual 
good-natured  cheerfulness.  If  there  had  been  a 
shadow  she  had  brushed  it  away  ruthlessly.  Even 
on  that  terrible  afternoon  at  Enton  she  had  sat  in 
the  cab  white  and  silent  —  she  had  appealed  to  him 
in  no  way  for  sympathy. 

The  waiter  retreated  with  a  bow.  She  shot  a  swift 
glance  across  at  him. 

"  I  object  to  being  scrutinized,"  she  declared.  "  Is 
it  the  plainness  of  my  hat  or  the  depth  of  my  wrinkles 
to  which  you  object?  " 

"Object!"  he  repeated. 

"  Yes.  You  were  looking  for  something  which 
you  did  not  find.  You  were  distinctly  disappointed. 
Don't  deny  it.  It  is  n't  worth  while." 

"  I  won't  plead  guilty  to  the  disappointment,"  he 
answered,  "  but  I  '11  tell  you  the  truth.  I  was  think- 
ing what  a  delightfully  companionable  girl  you  were, 
and  yet  how  different  from  any  other  girl  I  have  ever 
met  in  my  life." 

"  That  sounds  hackneyed  —  the  latter  part  of  it," 
she  remarked,  "  but  in  my  case  I  see  that  it  is  not 
intended  to  be  a  compliment.  What  do  I  lack  that 
other  girls  have?  " 

"  You  are  putting  me  in  a  tight  corner,"  he  de- 
clared. "  It  is  n't  that  you  lack  anything,  but  nearly 
all  the  girls  one  meets  some  time  or  other  seem  to 


236  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

expect  from  one  nice  little  speeches  or  compliments, 
just  a  little  sentiment  now  and  then.  Now  you  seem 
so  entirely  superior  to  that  sort  of  thing  altogether. 
It  is  a  ridiculously  lame  explanation.  The  thing's 
in  my  head  all  right,  but  I  can't  get  it  out.  I  can 
only  express  it  when  I  say  that  you  are  the  only  girl 
I  have  ever  known,  or  known  of,  in  my  life  with  whom 
sex  would  never  interfere  with  companionship." 

She  stirred  her  coffee  absently.  At  first  he  thought 
that  she  might  be  offended,  for  she  did  not  look  up 
for  several  moments. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  failed  altogether  to  make  you  under- 
stand what  I  meant,"  he  said,  humbly.  "  It  is  the 
result  of  an  attempt  at  too  great  candour." 

Then  she  looked  up  and  smiled  at  him  graciously 
enough,  though  it  seemed  to  him  that  she  was  a  little 
pale. 

"  I  am  sure  you  were  delightfully  lucid,"  she  said. 
"  I  quite  understood,  and  on  the  whole  I  think  I 
agree  with  you.  I  don't  think  that  the  sentimental 
side  of  me  has  been  properly  developed.  By  the  bye, 
you  were  going  to  tell  me  about  that  pretty  girl  I 
saw  at  Enton  —  Lady  Caroom's  daughter,  was  n't 
she?" 

His  face  lit  up  —  she  saw  his  thoughts  go  flitting 
away,  and  the  corner  of  his  lips  curl  in  a  retrospec- 
tive smile  of  pleasure. 

"  Sybil  Caroom,"  he  said,  softly.  "  She  is  a 
very  charming  girl.  You  would  like  her,  I  am  sure. 
Of  course  she 's  been  brought  up  in  rather  a 
frivolous  world,  but  she  's  quite  unspoilt,  very  sym- 
pathetic, and  very  intelligent.  Isn't  that  a  good 
character?  " 


BROOKS    ENLISTS   A   RECRUIT        237 

"  Very,"  she  answered,  with  a  suspicion  of  dry- 
ness  in  her  tone.  "  Is  this  paragon  engaged  to  be 
married  yet?  " 

He  looked  at  her,  keenly  surprised  by  the  infusion 
of  something  foreign  in  her  tone. 

"  I  —  I  think  not,"  he  answered.  "  I  should  like 
you  to  meet  her  very  much.  She  will  be  coming  to 
London  soon,  and  I  know  that  she  will  be  interested 
in  our  new  scheme  if  it  comes  to  anything.  We  will 
take  her  down  and  give  her  a  few  practical  lessons 
in  philanthropy." 

"  Will  she  be  interested?  "  Mary  asked. 

"  Immensely,"  he  answered,  with  confidence.  "Lady 
Caroom  is  an  awfully  good  sort,  too." 

Mary  remembered  the  well-bred  insolence  of  Lady 
Caroom's  stare,  the  contemplative  incredulity  which 
found  militant  expression  in  her  beautiful  eyes  and 
shapely  curving  lips,  and  for  a  moment  half  closed 
her  eyes. 

"  Ah,  well,"  she  said,  "  that  afternoon  was  rather  a 
terrible  one  to  me.  Let  us  talk  of  something  else." 

He  was  profuse  at  once  in  apologies  for  his  own 
thoughtlessness.  But  she  checked  him  almost  at  the 
outset. 

"It  is  I  who  am  to  blame  for  an  unusual  weak- 
ness," she  said.  "  Let  us  both  forget  it.  And  don't 
you  find  this  place  hot?  Let  us  get  outside  and 
walk." 

They  found  a  soft  misty  rain  falling.  The  com- 
missionaire called  a  hansom.  She  moved  her  skirts 
to  make  room  for  him. 

"  I  am  going  down  to  Stepney  to  see  a  man  who 
I  think  will  be  interested  in  my  scheme,"  he  said. 


238  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  When  may  I  come  down  again  and  have  tea  with 
you?" 

"  Any  afternoon,  if  you  will  drop  me  a  line  the 
night  before,"  she  said,  "  but  I  am  not  very  likely  to 
be  out,  in  any  case.  Thank  you  so  much  for  my 
dinner.  My  aunt  seemed  to  think  that  I  was  com- 
ing to  London  to  starve.  I  think  I  feel  fairly  safe 
this  evening,  at  any  rate." 

The  cab  drove  off,  skirting  the  gaily-lit  crescent 
of  Regent  Street.  The  smile  almost  at  once  died 
away  from  her  lips.  She  leaned  forward  and  looked 
at  herself  in  one  of  the  oblong  mirrors.  Her  face 
was  almost  colourless,  the  skin  seemed  drawn  closely 
round  her  eyes,  giving  her  almost  a  strained  look. 
For  the  rest,  her  hair,  smoothly  brushed  away  from 
her  face,  was  in  perfect  order,  her  prim  little  hat  was 
at  exactly  the  right  angle,  her  little  white  tie  alone 
relieved  the  sombreness  of  her  black  jacket.  She 
sighed  and  suddenly  felt  a  moistening  of  her  hot 
eyes.  She  leaned  far  back  into  the  corner  of  the 
cab. 


CHAPTER   VI 

KINGSTON   BROOKS,    PHILANTHROPIST 

"  T  T  is  my  deliberate  intention,"  Lord  Arranmore 

J,  said,  leaning  over  towards  her  from  his  low 
chair,  "  to  make  myself  a  nuisance  to  you." 

Lady  Caroom  smiled  at  him  thoughtfully. 

"  Thank  you  for  the  warning,"  she  said,  "  but  I 
can  take  care  of  myself.  I  do  not  feel  even  obliged 
to  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  your  society." 

"  No,  you  won't  do  that,"  he  remarked.  "  You 
see,  so  many  people  bore  you,  and  I  don't." 

"  It  is  true,"  she  admitted.  "  You  pay  me  nothing 
but  unspoken  compliments,  and  you  devote  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  ingenuity  to  conceal  the  real 
meaning  of  everything  you  say.  Now  some  people 
might  not  like  that.  I  adore  it." 

"Catherine,  will  you  marry  me?" 

"  Certainly  not !  I  'm  much  too  busy  looking  after 
Sybil,  and  in  any  case  you  've  had  your  answer,  my 
friend." 

"  You  will  marry  me,"  he  said,  deliberately,  "  in 
less  than  two  years  —  perhaps  in  less  than  one. 
Why  can't  you  make  your  mind  up  to  it  ?  " 

"  You  know  why,  Arranmore,"  she  said,  quietly. 
"If  you  were  the  man  I  remember  many  years 


240  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

ago,  the  man  I  have  wasted  many  hours  of  my  life 
thinking  about,  I  would  not  hesitate  for  a  moment. 
I  loved  that  man,  and  I  have  always  loved  him. 
But,  Arranmore,  I  cannot  recognize  him  in  you.  If 
these  terrible  things  which  you  have  suffered,  these 
follies  which  you  have  committed,  have  withered 
you  up  so  that  there  remains  no  trace  of  the  man  I 
once  cared  for,  do  you  blame  me  for  refusing  you? 
I  will  not  marry  a  stranger,  Arranmore,  and  I  not 
only  don't  know  you,  but  I  am  a  little  afraid  of 
you." 

He  sighed. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  he  said,  softly.  "  I  be- 
lieve that  the  only  thing  I  have  carried  with  me  from 
the  beginning,  and  shall  have  with  me  to  the  end,  is 
my  love  for  you.  Nothing  else  has  survived." 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  leaned  over  to 
him. 

"  Dear  friend,"  she  said,  "  listen !  At  least  I  will 
promise  you  this.  If  ever  I  should  see  the  least  little 
impulse  or  action  which  seems  to  me  to  come  from 
the  Philip  I  once  knew,  and  not  Lord  Arranmore, 
anything  which  will  convince  me  that  some  part, 
however  slight,  of  the  old  has  survived,  I  will  come 
to  you." 

He  sighed. 

"  You  alone,"  he  said,  "  might  work  such  a 
miracle." 

"  Then  come  and  see  me  often,"  she  said,  with  a 
brilliant  smile,  "  and  I  will  try." 

He  moved  his  chair  a  little  nearer  to  her. 

"  You  encourage  me  to  hope,"  he  said.  "  I  re- 
member that  one  night  in  the  conservatory  I  was 


KINGSTON  BROOKS,   PHILANTHROPIST    241 

presumptuous  enough  —  to  take  your  hand.  His- 
tory repeats  itself,  you  see,  and  I  claim  the  prize,  for 
I  have  fulfilled  the  condition." 

She  drew  her  hand  away  firmly,  but  without  undue 
haste. 

"  If  you  are  going  to  be  frivolous,"  she  said,  "  I 
will  have  all  the  callers  shown  in.  You  know  very 
well  that  that  is  not  what  I  mean.  There  must  be 
some  unpremeditated  action,  some  impulse  which 
comes  from  your  own  heart.  Frankly,  Arranmore, 
there  are  times  now  when  I  am  afraid  of  you.  You 
seem  to  have  no  heart  —  to  be  absolutely  devoid 
of  feeling,  to  be  cold  and  calculating  even  in  your 
slightest  actions.  There,  now  I  have  told  you  just 
what  I  feel  sometimes,  and  it  does  n't  sound  nice, 
does  it?  " 

"  It  sounds  very  true,"  he  said,  wearily.  "  Will 
you  tell  me  where  I  can  buy  a  new  heart  and  a  fresh 
set  of  impulses,  even  a  disposition,  perhaps?  I  'd  be 
a  customer.  I  'm  willing  enough." 

"  Never  mind  that,"  she  said,  softly.  "  After  all, 
I  have  a  certain  amount  of  faith.  A  miracle  may 
happen  at  any  moment." 

Sybil  came  in,  dressed  in  a  fascinating  short  skirt 
and  a  toque.  Her  maid  on  the  threshold  was  carry- 
ing a  small  green  baize  box. 

"  I  am  going  to  Prince's,  mother,  just  for  an  hour, 
with  Mrs.  Huntingdon.  How  do  you  do,  Lord 
Arranmore  ?  You  '11  keep  mother  from  being  dullr 
won't  you  ?  " 

"  It  is  your  mother,"  he  said,  "  who  is  making  me 
dull." 

"  Poor  old  mummy,"  Sybil  declared,  cheerfully, 
16 


242  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  Never  mind.  Her  bark  's  a  good  deal  worse  than 
her  bite.  Good-bye,  both  of  you." 

Lord  Arranmore  rose  and  closed  the  door  after 
her. 

"  Sybil  is  a  remarkably  handsome  young  woman," 
he  said.  "Any  signs  of  her  getting  married  yet?" 

Lady  Caroom  shook  her  head. 

"  No !  Arranmore,  that  reminds  me,  what  has 
become  of  —  Mr.  Brooks?  " 

Lord  Arrajimore  smiled  a  little  bitterly. 

"  He  is  in  London." 

"  I  have  never  seen  him,  you  must  remember,  since 
that  evening.  Is  he  still  —  unforgiving?" 

"  Yes !  He  refuses  to  be  acknowledged.  He  is 
taking  the  bare  income  which  is  his  by  law  —  it  comes 
from  a  settlement  to  the  eldest  son  —  and  he  is  study- 
ing practical  philanthropy  in  the  slums." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  she  said.  "  I  like  him,  and  he  would 
be  a  companion  for  you." 

"  He 's  not  to  be  blamed,"  Lord  Arranmore  said. 
"  From  his  point  of  view  I  have  been  the  most  scan- 
dalous parent  upon  this  earth." 

Lady  Caroom  sighed. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "  that  he  and  Sybil  were 
very  friendly?  " 

"  I  noticed  it,"  he  answered. 

"  She  has  asked  about  him  once  or  twice  since  we 
got  back  to  town,  and  when  she  reads  about  the 
starting  of  this  new  work  of  his  at  Stepney  she  will 
certainly  write  to  him." 

"  You  mean " 

"  I  mean  that  she  has  sent  Sydney  to  the  right- 
about this  time  in  earnest.  She  is  a  queer  girl,  reti- 


KINGSTON  BROOKS,  PHILANTHROPIST    243 

cent  in  a  way,  although  she  seems  such  a  chatterbox, 
and  I  am  sure  she  thinks  about  him." 

Lord  Arranmore  laughed  a  little  hardly. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  am  the  last  person  to  be  con- 
sulted about  anything  of  this  sort.  If  he  keeps  up 
his  present  attitude  and  declines  to  receive  any- 
thing from  me,  his  income  until  my  death  will  be  only 
two  or  three  thousand  a  year.  He  might  marry  on 
that  down  in  Stepney,  but  not  in  this  part  of  the 
world." 

"  Sybil  has  nine  hundred  a  year/'  Lady  Caroom 
said,  "  but  it  would  not  be  a  matter  of  money  at  all. 
I  should  not  allow  Sybil  to  marry  any  one  concerning 
whose  position  in  the  world  there  was  the  least  mys- 
tery. She  might  marry  Lord  Kingston  of  Ross,  but 
never  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks." 

"  Has  —  Mr.  Brooks  given  any  special  signs  of 
devotion?"  Lord  Arranmore  asked. 

"  Not  since  they  were  at  Enton.  I  dare  say  he  has 
never  even  thought  of  her  since.  Still,  it  was  a  con- 
tingency which  occurred  to  me." 

"  He  is  a  young  man  of  excellent  principles,"  Lord 
Arranmore  said,  dryly,  "  taking  life  as  seriously  as 
you  please,  and  I  should  imagine  is  too  well  balanced 
to  make  anything  but  a  very  safe  husband.  If  he 
comes  to  me,  if  he  will  accept  it  without  coming  to 
me  even,  he  can  have  another  ten  thousand  a  year  and 
Enton." 

"  You  are  generous,"  she  murmured. 

"  Generous !  My  houses  and  my  money  are  a 
weariness  to  me.  I  cannot  live  in  the  former,  and  I 
cannot  spend  the  latter.  I  am  a  man  really  of  simple 
tastes.  Besides,  there  is  no  glory  now  in  spending 


244  A    PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

money.  One  can  so  easily  be  outdone  by  one's  grocer, 
or  one  of  those  marvellous  Americans." 

"  Yet  I  thought  I  read  of  you  last  week  as  giving 
nine  hundred  pounds  for  some  unknown  tapestry  at 
Christie's." 

"  But  that  is  not  extravagance,"  he  protested. 
"  That  is  not  even  spending  money.  It  is  exchanging 
one  investment  for  another.  The  purple  colouring 
of  that  tapestry  is  marvellous.  The  next  generation 
will  esteem  it  priceless." 

"  You  must  go  ?  "  she  asked,  for  he  had  risen. 

"  I  have  stayed  long  enough,"  he  answered.  "  In 
another  five  minutes  you  will  yawn,  and  mine  would 
have  been  a  wasted  visit.  I  should  like  to  time  my 
visits  always  so  that  the  five  minutes  which  I  might 
have  stayed  seem  to  you  the  most  desirable  five 
minutes  of  the  whole  time." 

"  You  are  an  epicurean  and  a  schemer,"  she  de- 
clared. "  I  am  afraid  of  you." 

He  bought  an  evening  paper  on  his  way  to  St. 
James's  Square,  and  leaning  back  in  his  brougham, 
glanced  it  carelessly  through.  Just  as  he  was  throw- 
ing it  aside  a  small  paragraph  at  the  bottom  of  the 
page  caught  his  attention. 

A  NOVEL  PHILANTHROPIC  DEPARTURE. 

THE  FIRST  BUREAU  OPENED  TO-DAY. 

INTERVIEW  WITH  MR.  KINGSTON  BROOKS. 

He  folded  the  paper  out,  and  read  through  every 
line  carefully.  A  few  minutes  after  his  arrival  home 
he  re-issued  from  the  house  in  a  bowler  hat  and  a 


KINGSTON  BROOKS,   PHILANTHROPIST    245 

long,  loose  overcoat.  He  took  the  Metropolitan  and 
an  omnibus  to  Stepney,  and  read  the  paragraph 
through  again.  Soon  he  found  himself  opposite  the 
address  given. 

He  recognized  it  with  a  little  start.  It  had  once 
been  a  mission  hall,  then  a  furniture  shop,  and  later 
on  had  been  empty  for  years.  It  was  brilliantly  lit 
up,  and  he  pressed  forward  and  peered  through  the 
window.  Inside  the  place  was  packed.  Brooks  and  a 
dozen  or  so  others  were  sitting  on  a  sort  of  slightly- 
raised  platform  at  the  end  of  the  room,  with  a  desk 
in  front  of  each  of  them.  Lord  Arranmore  pulled 
his  hat  over  his  eyes  and  forced  his  way  just  inside. 
Almost  as  he  entered  Brooks  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said,  "  you  all  come  up  asking  the 
same  question  and  wasting  my  time  answering  you 
all  severally.  You  want  to  know  what  this  place 
means.  Well,  if  you  '11  stay  just  where  you  are  for  a 
minute,  I  '11  tell  you  all  together,  and  save  time." 

"  Hear,  hear,  guv'nor,"  said  a-  bibulous  old  coster- 
monger,  encouragingly.  "  Let 's  hear  all  about  it." 

"So  you  shall,"  Brooks  said.  "Now  listen.  I  dare 
say  there  are  a  good  many  of  you  who  go  up  in  the 
West  End  sometimes,  and  see  those  big  houses  and 
the  way  people  spend  their  money  there,  who  come 
back  to  your  own  houses  here,  and  think  that  things 
are  n't  exactly  dealt  out  square.  Is  n't  that  so  ?  " 

There  was  a  hearty  and  unanimous  assent. 

"  Well,"  Brooks  continued,  "  it  may  surprise  you 
to  hear  that  a  few  of  us  who  have  a  little  money  up 
there  have  come  to  the  same  conclusion.  We  'd  like 
to  do  our  little  bit  towards  squaring  things  up.  It 
may  not  be  much,  but  lots  more  may  come  of  it." 


246  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

A  modified  but  a  fairly  cordial  assent. 

"  We  have  n't  money  to  give  away  —  not  much  of 
it,  at  any  rate,"  Brooks  continued. 

"  More  bloomin'  tracks,"  the  costermonger  inter- 
rupted, and  spat  upon  the  floor.  "  Fair  sickens  me, 
it  does." 

"  As  for  tracts,"  Brooks  continued,  calmly,  "  I 
don't  think  I  've  ever  read  one  in  my  life,  and  I  don't 
want  to.  We  have  n't  such  a  thing  in  the  place,  and  I 
should  n't  know  where  to  go  for  them,  and  though 
that  gentleman  down  there  with  a  herring  sticking 
out  of  his  pocket  seems  to  have  done  himself  pretty 
well  already,  I  'd  rather  stand  him  a  glass  of  beer  than 
offer  him  such  a  thing." 

A  roar  of  laughter,  during  which  a  wag  in  the 
crowd  quietly  picked  the  costermonger' s  pocket  of 
the  fish  with  a  deftness  born  of  much  practice,  and 
sent  it  flying  over  the  room.  It  was  promptly  re- 
turned, and  found  a  devious  way  back  to  its  owner  in 
a  somewhat  dusty  and  mauled  condition. 

"  There  is  just  one  thing  we  have  to  ask  for  and 
insist  upon,"  Brooks  continued.  "  When  you  come 
to  us  for  help,  tell  us  the  truth.  If  you  've  been  drunk 
all  the  week  and  have  n't  earned  any  money,  well,  we 
may  help  you  out  with  a  Sunday  dinner.  If  you  've 
been  in  prison  and  won't  mind  owning  up  to  it,  we 
shan't  send  you  away  for  that  reason.  We  want  your 
women  to  come  and  bring  us  your  children,  that  we 
can  have  a  look  at  them,  tell  us  how  much  you  all 
make  a  week  between  you,  and  what  you  need  most 
to  make  you  a  bit  more  comfortable.  And  we  want 
your  husbands  to  come  and  tell  us  where  they  work, 
and  what  rent  they  pay,  and  if  they  have  n't  any  work, 


KINGSTON   BROOKS,  PHILANTHROPIST    247; 

and  can't  get  it,  we  '11  see  what  we  can  do.  I  tell  you 
I  don't  care  to  start  with  whether  you're  sober  and 
industrious,  or  idle,  or  drunkards.  We'll  give  any 
one  a  leg-up  if  we  can.  I  don't  say  we  shall  keep  that 
up  always,  because  of  course  we  shan't.  But  we  '11 
give  any  one  a  fair  chance.  Now  do  you  want  to  ask 
any  questions?  " 

A  pallid  but  truculent-looking  young  man  pushed 
himself  to  the  front. 

"  'Ere,  guv'nor !  "  he  said.  "  Supposing  yer  was  to 
stand  me  a  coat  —  I  ain't  'ad  one  for  two  months  — 
should  I  'ave  to  come  'ere  on  a  Sunday  and  sing 
bloomin'  hymns?  " 

"  If  you  did,"  Brooks  answered  him,  "  you  'd  do  it 
by  yourself,  and  you  'd  stand  a  fair  chance  of  being 
run  out.  There 's  going  to  be  no  preaching  or  hymn- 
singing  here.  Those  sorts  of  things  are  very  well  in 
their  way,  but  they  've  nothing  to  do  with  this  show. 
I  'm  not  sure  whether  we  shall  open  on  Sundays  or 
not.  If  we  do  it  will  be  only  for  the  ordinary  busi- 
ness. Now  let 's  get  to  work." 

"  Sounds  a  bit  of  orl  right,  and  no  mistake," 
the  young  man  remarked,  turning  round  to  the 
crowd.  "  I  'm  going  to  stop  and  'ave  a  go  for  that 
coat." 

A  young  man  in  a  bright  scarlet  jersey  pushed  him- 
self to  the  front,  followed  by  a  little  volley  of  chaff, 
more  or  less  good-natured. 

"  There  's  Salvation  Joe  wants  a  new  trombone." 

"  Christian  Sail 's  blown  a  hole  in  the  old  one,  eh, 
Joe?" 

Breathless  he  reached  Brooks'  side.  The  sweat 
stood  out  in  beads  upon  his  forehead.  He  seemed  not 


248  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

to  hear  a  word  that  was  said  amongst  the  crowd. 
Brooks  smiled  at  him  good-humouredly. 
\  "Well,  sir,"  he  said,  "what  can  I  do  for  you?" 
•  "I  happened  in,  sir,  out  of  curiosity,"  the  young 
man  said,  in  a  strange  nasal  twang,  the  heritage  of 
years  of  outdoor  preaching;  "  I  hoped  to  hear  of  one 
more  good  work  begun  in  this  den  of  iniquity  and  to 
clasp  hands  with  another  brother  in  God." 

"  Glad  to  see  you,"  Brooks  said.  "  You  '11  remem- 
ber we  're  busy." 

"  The  message  of  God,"  the  young  man  answered, 
"  must  be  spoken  at  all  times." 

"Oh,  chuck  'im  out!"  cried  the  disgusted  coster- 
monger,  spitting  upon  the  floor.  "  That  sort  o'  stuff 
fair  sickens  me." 

The  young  man  continued  as  though  he  had  not 
heard. 

"  Such  charity  as  you  are  offering,"  he  cried,  "is 
corruption.  You  are  going  to  dispense  things  for 
their  carnal  welfare,  and  you  do  nothing  for  their 
immortal  souls.  You  will  not  let  them  even  shout 
their  thanks  to  God.  You  will  fill  their  stomachs  and 
leave  their  souls  hungry." 

The  costermonger  waved  a  wonderful  red  hand- 
kerchief, and  spat  once  more  on  the  floor.  Brooks 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  young  man's  shoulder. 

"  Look  here,  my  young  friend,"  he  said,  "  you  're 
talking  rot.  Men  and  women  who  live  down  here  in 
wretchedness,  and  who  are  fighting  every  moment  of 
their  time  to  hang  on  to  life,  don't  want  to  be  talked 
to  about  their  souls.  They  need  a  leg-up  in  the  world, 
and  we  've  come  to  try  and  give  it  to  them.  We  're 
here  as  friends,  not  preachers.  We  '11  leave  you  to 


KINGSTON  BROOKS,   PHILANTHROPIST    249 

look  after  their  souls.  You  people  who  've  tried  to 
make  your  religion  the  pill  to  go  with  your  charity 
have  done  more  harm  in  the  world  than  you  know 
of." 

The  young  man  was  on  fire  to  speak,  but  he  had  no 
chance.  They  hustled  him  out  good-naturedly  — 
except  that  the  costermonger,  running  him  down  the 
room,  took  his  cap  from  his  head  and  sent  it  spinning 
across  the  road.  Lord  Arranmore  left  the  hall  at 
the  same  time,  and  turned  homewards,  walking  like 
a  man  in  a  dream. 


CHAPTER   VII 

BROOKS   AND    HIS    MISSIONS 

then,  please,"  Brooks  said,  dipping  his 
pen  in  the  ink. 

A  lady  of  ample  proportions,  who  had  been  stand- 
ing since  the  commencement  of  the  proceedings  with 
her  hand  tightly  grasping  the  leg  of  Brooks'  table, 
gave  a  final  shove  of  discomfiture  to  a  meek-faced 
girl  whom  she  had  suspected  of  an  attempt  to  super- 
sede her,  and  presented  herself  before  the  desk. 

"  I  'm  first,"  she  declared,  firmly ;  "  been  'ere  for 
four  mortal  hours." 

"  What  is  your  name,  please?  "  Brooks  asked. 

"  Mrs.  Robert  Jones,  No.  4,  St.  Mary's  Court, 
down  Fennell  Street  —  leastways  you  go  that  way 
from  'ere.  I  'm  a  widow  woman  with  four  children, 
and  lost  me  husband  on  the  railway.  What  I  wants 
is  a  suit  of  clothes  for  my  Tommy,  he 's  five-and-'arf, 
and  stout  for  his  years,  and  a  pair  of  boots  for  Selina 
Ann.  And  I  'm  not  a  saying,"  she  continued,  blandly, 
"  as  me  having  waited  'ere  so  long,  and  this  being  a 
sort  of  opening  ceremony,  as  a  pound  of  tea  for  my- 
self would  n't  be  a  welcome  and  reasonable  gift.  And 
if  the  suit,"  she  concluded,  breathlessly,  "  has  double- 
seated  breeches  so  much  the  better." 

Brooks  maintained  the  most  perfect  composure, 
although  conscious  of  a  suppressed  titter  from  behind. 


BROOKS   AND   HIS   MISSIONS         251 

He  commenced  to  write  rapidly  in  his  book,  and  Mrs. 
Jones,  drawing  her  shawl  about  her,  looked  around 
complacently.  Suddenly  she  caught  the  ripple  of 
mirth,  which  some  of  Brooks'  helpers  were  powerless 
to  control.  Her  face  darkened. 

"  Which  is  little  enough  to  ask  for,"  she  declared, 
truculently,  "  considering  as  it 's  four  mortal  hours 
since  I  first  laid  hold  of  the  leg  of  that  table,  and 
neither  bite  nor  sup  have  I  had  since,  it  not  being 
my  habit,"  she  continued,  slowly,  and  staring  intently 
at  the  hang  of  her  neighbour's  skirt,  "  to  carry  bottles 
in  my  pocket." 

Brooks  looked  up. 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Jones,"  he  said.  "  I  have  en- 
tered your  name  and  address,  and  I  hope  we  shall  see 
you  again  soon.  This  young  lady,"  he  indicated 
Mary,  "  will  take  you  over  to  our  clothes  department, 
and  if  we  haven't  anything  to  fit  Tommy  you  must 
come  again  on  Wednesday,  when  we  shall  have  a 
larger  supply." 

"  I  '11  take  the  nearest  you  Ve  got  to-day,"  she  de- 
cided, promptly.  "  Wot  about  the  tea?  " 

"  We  shall  be  glad  to  ask  you  to  accept  a  small 
packet,"  Brooks  answered.  "  By  the  bye,  have  you 
a  pension  from  the  railway  company?  " 

"  Not  a  penny,  sir,"  she  declared,  "  and  a  burning 
shame  it  is." 

"  We  must  see  into  it,"  Brooks  said.  "  You  see 
that  gentleman  behind  me  ?  " 

"  Him  with  the  squint  ?  "  she  asked,  doubtfully. 

Brooks  bent  over  his  book. 

"  Mr.  Fellows,  his  name  is,"  he  said.  "  He  is  one 
of  our  helpers  here,  and  he  is  a  lawyer.  You  can  tell 


A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

him  all  about  it,  and  if  we  think  you  have  a  claim  we 
will  try  and  see  what  we  can  do  for  you.  Now,  if 
you  please,  we  must  get  on.  Come  in  any  time,  Mrs. 
Jones,  and  talk  to  us.  Some  one  is,  always  here. 
.What  is  your  name,  please?" 

"Amy  Hardinge!" 

There  was  a  howl  of  derision  from  the  rear.  The 
girl,  pallid,  with  large  dark  eyes,  a  somewhat  tawdry 
hat  and  torn  skirt,  turned  angrily  around. 

"  Who  yer  shouting  at,  eh  ?  There  ain't  so  many 
of  yer  as  knows  yer  own  names,  I  dir  say,  and  'Ar- 
dinge  's  as  good  as  any  other.  Leave  a  body  be, 
won't  yer  ?  " 

She  turned  round  to  Brooks,  and  disclosed  a  most 
alarming  rent  in  her  gown. 

"  Look  'ere,  guv'nor,"  she  said,  "  that 's  my  name, 
and  I  'as  a  back  room  behind  old  Connel's  fish-shop 
next  door  but  one  to  'ere.  If  yer  want  to  give  away 
things  to  them  as  wants  'em,  wot  price  a  new  skirt 
'ere,  eh?" 

A  woman  from  the  rear  leaned  over  to  Brooks. 

"  The  'ussy,"  she  said.  "  Don't  you  take  no  notice 
of  'er,  sir.  We  all  knows  'er  —  and  precious  little 
good  there  is  ter  know." 

Miss  Hardinge  was  not  unreasonably  annoyed. 
She  turned  round  with  flashing  eyes  and  belligerent 
attitude. 

"  Who  the  'ell  asked  you  anything?  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Can't  yer  keep  your  bloomin'  mouths  closed  ?  " 

A  pale-faced  little  man  pushed  his  way  through  the 
throng.  He  was  dressed  in  a  semi-clerical  garb,  and 
he  tapped  Brooks  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Can  you  favour  me  with  one  moment's  private 


BROOKS   AND   HIS    MISSIONS          253 

conversation,  sir  ?  "  he  said.  "  My  name  is  John 
Deeling,  and  I  am  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  The 
Mission  House  in  Fennell  Street  is  my  special  charge." 

"  Glad  to  know  you,  Mr.  Deeling,"  Brooks  an- 
swered, "  but  I  can't  spare  any  time  for  private  con- 
versation now.  Can't  you  speak  to  me  here?  " 

Mr.  Deeling  looked  doubtfully  at  the  girl  who 
stood  still  before  the  desk,  silent,  but  breathing  hard. 
A  sullen  shade  had  fallen  upon  her  face.  She  looked 
like  a  creature  at  bay. 

"It  is  concerning — this  unfortunate  young  person." 

"  I  can  assure  you,"  Brooks  said,  dipping  his  pen 
in  the  ink,  "  that  no  recommendation  is  necessary. 
I  shall  do  what  I  can  for  her." 

"  You  misapprehend  me,  sir,"  Mr.  Deeling  said, 
with  some  solemnity.  "  I  regret  to  say  that  no 
recommendation  is  possible.  That  young  person  is 
outside  the  pale  of  all  Christian  help.  I  regret  to 
speak  so  plainly  before  ladies,  sir,  but  she  is  a  notori- 
ous character,  a  hardened  and  incurable  prostitute." 

Brooks  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  fixedly. 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say,  sirr  that  you  were 
a  minister  of  the  Gospel  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Certainly!  I  am  well  known  in  the  neighbour- 
hood." 

"  Then  if  you  take  my  advice,"  Brooks  said, 
sternly,  "  you  will  take  off  those  garments  and  break 
stones  upon  the  street.  It  is  to  help  such  unfortunate 
and  cruelly  ill-used  young  women  as  this  that  I  and 
my  friends  have  come  here.  Be  off,  sir.  Miss  Har- 
dinge,  this  young  lady  will  take  you  to  our  clothes 
store  in  the  inner  room  there.  I  hope  you  will  permit 
us  to  be  of  some  further  use  to  you  later  on." 


254  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

The  girl,  half  dazed,  passed  away.  Mr.  Deeling, 
his  face  red  with  anger,  turned  towards  the  door. 

"  You  may  call  it  a  Christian  deed,  sir,"  he  ex- 
claimed, angrily,  "  to  encourage  vice  of  the  worst 
description.  We  shall  see  what  the  bishop,  what  the 
Press,  have  to  say  about  it." 

"  I  don't  care  a  snap  of  the  fingers  what  you,  or 
the  bishop,  or  the  Press  have  to  say,"  Brooks  re- 
joined, equably;  "  but  lest  there  should  be  those  here 
who  agree  with  your  point  of  view,  let  them  hear  this 
from  me  at  once,  to  prevent  misunderstanding.  We 
are  here  to  help  to  the  best  of  our  ability  all  who  need 
help,  whatsoever  their  characters.  They  are  equally 
welcome  to  what  we  have  to  offer,  whether  they  be 
thieves,  or  prostitutes,  or  drunkards,  or  respectable 
men  and  women.  But  if  I  were  asked  what  really 
brought  me  here,  for  what  class  of  people  in  the  world 
my  sympathy  and  the  sympathies  of  my  friends  have 
been  most  warmly  kindled,  I  should  say,  for  such  as 
that  young  woman  who  has  just  presented  herself  here. 
If  she  asks  for  them,  she  will  have  from  us  food  and 
clothes  and  the  use  of  our  baths  and  reading-rooms 
whenever  she  chooses,  and  I  will  guarantee  that  not 
one  of  my  women  friends  here  who  come  in  contact 
with  her  will  ask  a  single  question  as  to  her  mode  of 
life,  until  she  invites  their  confidence.  If  you  think 
that  she  is  responsible  for  her  present  state,  you  and 
I  differ  —  if  you  think  that  one  shadow  of  blame  rests 
upon  her,  we  differ  again.  And  if  there  are  any  more 
like  her  in  the  room,  let  them  come  out,  and  they  shall 
have  all  that  they  ask  for,  that  it  is  within  our  power 
to  give." 

"  Hear,  hear,  guv'nor! " 


BROOKS   AND   HIS    MISSIONS         255 

"  That 's  ginger  for  'im." 

"  Out  of  this,  old  white  choker.  There  's  beans 
for  you." 

They  let  him  pass  through.  On  the  threshold  he 
turned  and  faced  Brooks  again. 

"  At  least,"  he  said,  "  I  can  promise  you  this. 
God's  blessing  will  never  be  upon  your  work.  I  doubt 
whether  you  will  be  allowed  to  continue  it  in  this 
Christian  country." 

Brooks  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Mr.  Deeling,"  he  said,  "  you  and  your  mission 
system  of  work  amongst  the  poor  have  been  fighting 
a  losing  battle  in  this  country  for  fifty  years  and  more. 
A  Christian  country  you  call  it.  Go  outside  in  the 
streets.  Look  north  and  south,  east  and  west,  look 
at  the  people,  look  at  their  children,  look  at  their 
homes.  Is  there  one  shadow  of  improvement  in  this 
labyrinth  of  horrors  year  by  year,  decade  by  decade? 
You  know  in  your  heart  that  there  is  none.  There- 
fore if  new  means  be  chosen,  do  not  condemn  them 
too  rashly.  Your  mission  houses,  many  of  them, 
have  been  nothing  but  breeding-places  for  hypocrisy. 
It  is  time  the  old  order  was  changed.  Now,  sir,  you 
are  next.  What  can  we  do  for  you  ?  " 

A  weary-looking  man  with  hollow  eyes  and  ner- 
vously-twitching fingers  found  himself  pushed  before 
the  desk.  He  seemed  at  first  embarrassed  and  half 
dazed.  Brooks  waited  without  any  sign  of  impa- 
tience. When  at  last  he  spoke,  it  was  without  the 
slightest  trace  of  any  Cockney  accent. 

"I  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir !  I  ought  not  perhaps 
to  intrude  here,  but  I  don't  know  who  needs  help 
more  than  I  do." 


256  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  He  's  orl  right,  sir,"  sung  out  the  costermonger. 
J"  He  is  a  bit  queer  in  the  'ead,  but  he  's  a  scholar,  and 
fair  on  his  uppers.  Speak  up,  Joe." 

"  You  see,  my  friends  are  willing  to  give  me  a 
character,  sir,"  the  man  remarked,  with  a  ghost  of 
a  smile.  "  My  name  is  Edward  Owston.  I  was  clerk 
at  a  large  drapery  firm,  Messrs.  Appleby,  Sons,  and 
Dawson,  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  for  fourteen 
years.  I  have  a  verified  character  from  them.  They 
were  obliged  to  cut  down  their  staff,  owing  to  foreign 
competition,  and  —  I  have  never  succeeded  —  in  ob- 
taining another  situation.  There  is  nothing  against 
me,  sir.  I  would  have  worked  for  fifteen  shillings  a 
week.  I  walked  the  streets  till  my  boots  were  worn 
through  and  my  clothes  hung  around  me  like  rags. 
It  was  bad  luck  at  first  —  afterwards  it  was  my 
clothes.  I  have  been  selling  matches  for  a  month  — 
it  has  brought  me  in  two  shillings  a  week." 

"  How  old  are  you?  "  Brooks  asked. 

"Thirty-four,  sir." 

Brooks  nearly  dropped  his  pen. 

"What?"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Thirty-four,  sir.  It  is  four  years  since  I  lost  my 
situation." 

The  man's  hair  was  grey,  a  little  stubbly  grey 
beard  was  jutting  out  from  his  chin.  His  eyes  were 
almost  lost  in  deep  hollows.  Brooks  felt  a  lump  in 
his  throat,  and  for  a  moment  pretended  to  be  writing 
busily.  Then  he  looked  up. 

"  We  shall  give  you  a  fresh  start  in  life,  Edward 
Owston,"  he  said.  "  Follow  this  gentleman  at  my 
left.  He  will  find  you  clothes  and  food.  To-morrow 
you  will  go  to  a  cottage  which  belongs  to  us  at 


BROOKS   AND   HIS   MISSIONS         257 

Hastings  for  one  month.  Afterwards,  if  your  story 
is  true,  we  shall  find  you  a  suitable  situation  —  if 
it  is  partially  true,  we  shall  still  find  you  something 
to  do.  If  it  is  altogether  false  we  cannot  help  you, 
for  absolute  truth  in  answering  our  questions  is  the 
only  condition  we  impose." 

The  man  never  uttered  a  word.  He  went  out  lean- 
ing upon  the  arm  of  one  of  Brooks'  assistants.  An- 
other, who  was  a  doctor,  after  a  glance  into  the  man's 
face,  followed  them.  When  he  returned,  after  about 
twenty  minutes'  absence,  he  leaned  forward  and  whis- 
pered in  Brooks'  ear  — 

"  You  '11  never  have  to  find  a  situation  for  that 
poor  fellow.  A  month  's  about  all  he  's  good  for." 

Brooks  looked  round  shocked. 

"  What  is  it  —  drink?  "  he  asked. 

The  doctor  shook  his  head. 

"  Not  a  trace  of  it.  Starvation  and  exhaustion^ 
If  I  had  n't  been  with  him  just  now  he  'd  have  been 
dead  before  this.  He  fainted  away." 

Brooks  half  closed  his  eyes. 

"  It  is  horrible !  "  he  murmured. 

The  costermonger  was  next.  Brooks  looked 
around  the  room  and  at  the  clock. 

"Look  here,"  he  said.  "If  I  sit  here  till  to- 
morrow I  can't  possibly  attend  to  all  of  you.  I  tell 
you  what  I  '11  do.  If  you  others  will  give  place  to 
those  whose  cases  are  really  urgent,  I  '11  be  here  at 
seven  to-morrow  morning  till  seven  at  night,  and  the 
next  day  too,  if  necessary.  It 's  no  good  deputing, 
any  one  else  to  tell  me,  because  however  many 
branches  we  open  —  and  I  hope  we  shall  open  a 
great  many  —  I  mean  to  manage  this  one  myself, 

17 


258  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

and  I  must  know  you  all  personally.  Now  are  you 
all  agreeable  ?  " 

"  I  am  for  one,"  declared  the  costermonger,  moving 
away  from  before  the  desk.  "  I  ain't  in  no  'urry. 
I  've  'ad  a  bit  o'  bad  luck  wi'  my  barrer,  all  owing 
to  a  plaguing  drunken  old  omnibus-driver,  and  horl 
I  want  is  a  bit  o'  help  towards  the  security.  Josh  Auk 
wants  it  before  he  '11  let  me  out  a  new  one.  To- 
morrow 's  horl  right  for  me." 

"  Well,  I  expect  we  '11  manage  that,"  Brooks  re- 
marked. "  Now  where  are  the  urgent  cases?" 

One  by  one  they  were  elbowed  forward.  Brooks' 
pen  flew  across  the  paper.  It  was  midnight  even 
then  before  they  had  finished.  Brooks  and  Mary 
Scott  left  together.  They  were  both  too  exhausted 
for  words. 

As  they  crossed  the  street  Mary  suddenly  touched 
his  arm. 

"  Look !  "  she  whispered. 

A  girl  was  leaning  up  against  the  wall,  her  face 
buried  in  her  hands,  sobbing  bitterly.  They  both 
watched  her  for  a  moment.  It  was  Amy  Hardinge. 

"  I  will  go  and  speak  to  her,"  Mary  whispered. 

Brooks  drew  her  away. 

"  Not  one  word,  even  of  advice,"  he  said.  "  Let  us 
keep  to  our  principles.  The  end  will  be  surer." 

They  turned  the  corner  of  the  street.  Above  the 
shouting  of  an  angry  woman  and  the  crazy  song  of 
a  drunken  man  the  girl's  sobs  still  lingered  in  their 
-ears. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

MR.    BULLSOM    IS   STAGGERED 

MR.  BULLSOM  looked  up  from  his  letters 
with  an  air  of  satisfaction. 

"  Company  to  dinner,  Mrs.  Bullsom!"  he  declared. 

"  Some  more  of  your  silly  old  directors,  I  sup- 
pose," said  Selina,  discontentedly.  "  What  a  nui- 
sance they  are." 

Mr.  Bullsom  frowned. 

"  My  silly  old  directors,  as  you  call  'em,"  he  an- 
swered, "  may  not  be  exactly  up  to  your  idea  of  re- 
finement, but  I  would  n't  call  'em  names  if  I  were 
3'ou.  They  've  made  me  one  of  the  richest  men  in 
Medchester." 

"  A  lot  we  get  out  of  it,"  Louise  grunted,  dis- 
contentedly. 

"  You  get  as  much  as  you  deserve,"  Mr.  Bullsom 
retorted.  "  Besides,  you  're  so  plaguing  impatient. 
You  don't  hear  your  mother  talk  like  that." 

Selina  whispered  something  under  her  breath  which 
Mr.  Bullsom,  if  he  heard,  chose  to  ignore. 

"  I  've  explained  to  you  all  before,"  he  continued, 
"  that  up  to  the  end  of  last  year  we  've  been  holding 
the  entire  property  —  over  a  million  pounds'  worth, 
between  five  of  us.  Our  time 's  come  now.  Now, 
look  here  —  I  '11  listen  to  what  you  've  got  to  say 
—  all  of  you.  Supposing  I  've  made  up  my  mind 


260  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

to  launch  out.  How  do  you  want  to  do  it?  You 
first,  mother." 

Mrs.  Bullsom  looked  worried. 

"  My  dear  Peter,"  she  said,  "  I  think  we  're  very 
comfortable  as  we  are.  A  larger  household  means 
more  care,  and  a  man-servant  about  the  place  is  a 
thing  I  could  never  abide.  If  you  felt  like  taking 
sittings  at  Mr.  Thompson's  as  well  as  our  own 
chapel,  so  that  we  could  go  there  when  we  felt  we 
needed  a  change,  I  think  I  should  like  it  sometimes. 
But  it  seems  a  waste  of  good  money  with  Sundays 
only  coming  once  in  seven  days." 

Mr.  Bullsom  shook  with  good-humoured  laughter. 

"  Mother,  mother,"  he  said,  "  we  shall  never 
smarten  you  up,  shall  we,  girls?  Now,  what  do 
you  say,  Selina?  " 

"  I  should  like  a  country  house  quite  ten  or  fifteen 
miles  away  from  here,  lots  of  horses  and  carriages, 
and  a  house  in  town  for  the  season,"  Selina  declared, 
boldly. 

"And  you,  Louise?" 

"  I  should  like  what  Selina  has  said." 

Mr.  Bullsom  looked  a  little  grave. 

"  The  house  in  London,"  he  said,  "  you  shall  have, 
whether  I  buy  it  or  only  hire  it  for  a  few  months  at 
a  time.  If  we  have  n't  friends  up  there,  there  are 
always  the  theatres  and  music-halls,  and  lots  going 
on.  But  a  country  house  is  a  bit  different.  I  thought 
of  building  a  place  up  at  Nicholson's  Corner,  where 
the  trams  stop.  The  land  belongs  to  me,  and  there  's 
room  for  the  biggest  house  in  Medchester." 

Selina  tossed  her  head. 

"  Of  course,"  she  said,  "  if  we  have  to  spend  all 


MR.    BULLSOM   IS    STAGGERED        261 

our  lives  in  this  hateful  suburb  it  does  n't  much  mat- 
ter whether  you  stay  here  or  build  another  house,  no 
one  will  come  to  see  us.  We  shall  never  get  to  know 
anybody." 

"  And  supposing  you  go  out  into  the  country," 
Mr.  Bullsom  argued.  "  How  do  you  know  that  you 
will  make  friends  there  ?  " 

"  People  must  call,"  Selina  answered,  "  if  you 
subscribe  to  the  hounds,  and  you  must  get  made  a 
magistrate." 

"  We  have  lived  here  for  a  good  many  years," 
Mr.  Bullsom  said,  "  and  there  are  very  superior 
people  living  almost  at  our  doors  whom  even  you 
girls  don't  know  to  bow  to." 

Selina  tossed  her  head. 

"  Superior,  you  call  them,  do  you  ?  A  silly  stuck-up 
lot,  I  think.  They  form  themselves  into  little  sets, 
and  if  you  don't  belong,  they  treat  you  as  though  you 
had  small-pox." 

"  The  men  are  all  pleasant  enough,"  Mr.  Bullsom 
remarked.  "  I  meet  them  in  the  trams  and  in  busi- 
ness, and  they  're  always  glad  enough  to  pass  the 
time  o'  day." 

"  Oh,  the  men  are  all  right,"  Selina  answered. 
"  It 's  easy  enough  to  know  them.  Mr.  Wensome 
trod  on  my  dress  the  other  day,  and  apologized  as 
though  he  'd  torn  it  off  my  back,  and  the  next  day 
he  gave  me  his  seat  in  the  car.  I  always  acknowl- 
edge him,  and  he 's  glad  enough  to  come  and  talk, 
but  if  his  wife  's  with  him,  she  looks  straight  ahead 
as  though  every  one  else  in  the  car  were  mummies." 

Mr.  Bullsom  cut  the  end  of  a  cigar  thoughtfully, 
and  motioned  Louise  to  get  him  a  light. 


262  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  You  see,  your  mother  and  I  are  getting  on  in 
life,"  he  said,  "  and  it 's  a  great  thing  to  ask  us  to 
settle  down  in  a  place  where  there 's  no  slipping  off 
down  to  the  club  in  the  evening,  and  no  chance  of  a 
friend  dropping  in  for  a  chat.  We  've  got  to  an  age 
.when  we  need  some  one  to  talk  to.  I  ain't  going  to 
say  that  a  big  house  in  the  country  is  n't  a  nice  thing 
to  have,  and  the  gardens  and  that  would  be  first- 
class.  But  it 's  a  big  move,  and  it  ain't  to  be  decided 
about  all  in  a  hurry." 

"  Why,  father,  there 's  the  shooting,"  Selina  ex- 
claimed. "  You  're  fond  of  that,  and  men  will  go 
anywhere  for  really  good  shooting,  and  make  their 
wives  go,  too.  If  you  could  get  a  place  with  plenty 
of  it,  and  a  fox-covert  or  two  on  the  estate,  I  'm 
perfectly  certain  we  should  be  all  right." 

Mr.  Bullsom  looked  still  a  little  doubtful. 

"That's  all  very  well,"  he  said,  "but  I  don't 
want  to  bribe  people  into  my  house  with  shooting 
and  good  cooking,  and  nursing  their  blooming  foxes. 
That  ain't  my  idea  of  making  friends." 

"  It 's  only  breaking  the  ice — just  at  first,"  Selina 
argued.  "  Afterwards  I  'm  sure  you  'd  find  them 
friendly  enough." 

"  I  tell  you  what  I  shall  do,"  Mr.  Bullsom  said, 
deliberately ;  "  I  shall  consult  the  friend  I  've  got 
coming  to  dinner  to-night." 

Selina  smiled  contemptuously. 

"  Pshaw !  "  she  exclaimed.  "What  do  any  of  them 
know  about  such  things?" 

"  You  don't  know  who  it  is,"  Mr.  Bullsom  replied, 
mysteriously. 

The  girls  turned  towards  him  almost  simultane- 
ously. 


MR.    BULLSOM    IS    STAGGERED        263 

"Is  it  Mr.  Brooks?" 

Mr.  Bullsom  nodded.  Selina  flushed  with  pleasure 
and  tried  to  look  unconscious. 

"  Only  the  day  before  yesterday,"  Mr.  Bullsom 
said,  "  as  chairman  of  the  committee,  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  forwarding  to  Brooks  a  formal  invita- 
tion to  become  the  parliamentary  candidate  for  the 
borough.  He  writes  to  me  by  return  to  say  that  he 
will  be  here  this  afternoon,  as  he  wishes  to  see  me 
personally." 

"  I  must  say  he  has  n't  lost  much  time,"  Louise 
remarked,  smiling  across  at  Selina. 

Mr.  Bullsom  grunted. 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  could  do  much  less,"  he  said. 
"  After  all,  though  every  one  admits  that  he 's  a 
clever  young  chap  and  uncommonly  conscientious, 
he 's  not  well  known  generally,  and  he  has  n't  the 
position  in  the  town  or  anywhere  which  people  gen- 
erally look  for  in  a  parliamentary  candidate.  I  may 
tell  you,  girls,  and  you,  mother,  that  he  was  selected 
solely  on  my  unqualified  support  and  my  casting 
vote." 

"I  hope,"  Mrs.  Bullsom  said,  "that  he  will  be 
properly  grateful." 

"  I  'm  sure  it 's  very  good  of  you,  pa,"  Selina  de- 
clared, affably.  She  liked  the  idea  of  Brooks  owing 
so  much  to  her  father. 

"  There 's  no  young  man,"  Mr.  Bullsom  said, 
"  whom  I  like  so  much  or  think  so  much  of  as  Mr. 
Brooks.  If  I  'd  a  son  like  that  I  'd  be  a  proud  man. 
And  as  we  're  here  all  alone,  just  the  family,  as  it 
were,  I  '11  go  on  to  say  this,"  Mr.  Bullsom  continued, 
his  right  thumb  finding  its  way  to  the  armhole  of  his 


264  'A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

waistcoat.  "  I  'm  going  to  drop  a  hint  at  the  first 
opportunity  I  get,  quite  casually,  that  whichever  of 
you  girls  gets  married  first  gets  a  cheque  from  me 
for  one  hundred  thousand  pounds." 

Even  Selina  was  staggered.  Mrs.  Bullsom  was 
positively  frightened. 

"  Mr.  Bullsom !  "  she  said.  "  Peter,  you  ain't  got 
as  much  as  that  ?  Don't  tell  me !  " 

"  I  am  worth  to-day,"  Mr.  Bullsom  said,  solemnly, 
"  at  least  five  hundred  thousand  pounds." 

"  Peter,"  Mrs.  Bullsom  gasped,  "  has  it  been  come 
by  honest  ?  " 

Mr.  Bullsom  smiled  in  a  superior  way. 

"  I  made  it,"  he  answered,  "  by  locking  up  forty 
thousand,  more  than  half  of  what  I  was  worth,  for 
five  years.  But  I  knew  what  I  was  about,  and  so 
did  the  others.  Mason  made  nearly  as  much  as  I 
did." 

Selina  looked  at  her  father  with  a  new  respect. 
He  rose  and  brushed  the  ashes  of  his  cigar  from  his 
waistcoat. 

"  Now  I  'm  off,"  he  declared.  "  Brooks  and  I  will 
be  back  about  seven,  and  I  shall  try  and  get  him  to 
sleep  here.  Fix  yourselves  up  quiet  and  ladylike,  you 
girls.  Good-bye,  mother." 

"  We  have  about  an  hour  before  dinner,"  Mr. 
[Bullsom  remarked,  sinking  into  his  most  comfort- 
able chair  and  lighting  a  cigar.  "  Just  time  for  a 
comfortable  chat.  You  '11  smoke,  Brooks,  won't 
you?" 

Brooks  excused  himself,  and  remained  standing 
upon  the  hearthrug,  his  elbow  upon  the  mantelpiece. 


MR.   BULLSOM   IS   STAGGERED        265 

He  hated  this  explanation  he  had  to  make.  How- 
ever, it  was  no  good  in  beating  about  the  bush. 

"  I  am  going  to  surprise  you  very  much,  Mr. 
Bullsom,"  he  began. 

Mr.  Bullsom  took  the  cigar  from  his  mouth  and 
looked  up  with  wide-open  eyes.  He  had  been 
preparing  graciously  to  wave  away  a  torrent  of 
thanks. 

"Eh?" 

"  I  am  going  to  surprise  you  very  much,"  Brooks 
repeated.  "  I  cannot  accept  this  magnificent  offer  of 
yours.  I  cannot  express  my  gratitude  sufficiently  to 
you,  or  to  the  committee.  Nothing  would  have  made 
me  happier  than  to  have  been  able  to  accept  it.  But 
I  am  absolutely  powerless." 

"  You  don't  funk  it?  "  Mr.  Bullsom  asked. 

"  Not  I.  The  fact  is,  there  are  circumstances  con- 
nected with  myself  which  make  it  inadvisable  for  me 
to  seek  any  public  position  at  present." 

Mr.  Bullsom' s  first  sensations  of  astonishment 
were  augmented  into  stupefaction.  He  was  scarcely 
capable  of  speech.  He  found  himself  wondering 
idly  how  heinous  a  crime  a  man  must  commit  to  be 
branded  ineligible. 

"  To  explain  this  to  you,"  Brooks  continued,  "  I 
am  bound  to  tell  you  something  which  is  only  known 
to  two  people  in  the  country.  The  Marquis  of  Ar- 
ranmore  is  my  father." 

Mr.  Bullsom  dropped  his  cigar  from  between  his 
fingers,  and  it  lay  for  a  moment  smouldering  upon 
the  carpet.  His  face  was  a  picture  of  blank  and 
hopeless  astonishment. 

"  God   bless   my   soul ! "    he   exclaimed,    faintly. 


266  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  You  mean  that  you  —  you,  Kingston  Brooks,  the 
lawyer,  are  Lord  Arranmore's  son  ?  " 

Brooks  nodded. 

"  Yes !  It 's  not  a  pleasant  story.  My  father  de- 
serted my  mother  when  I  was  a  child,  and  she  died 
in  his  absence.  A  few  months  ago,  Lord  Arran- 
more,  in  a  leisurely  sort  of  way,  thought  well  to 
find  me  out,  and  after  treating  me  as  an  acquaint- 
ance for  some  time  —  a  sort  of  probationary  period, 
I  suppose  —  he  told  me  the  truth.  That  is  the 
reason  of  my  resigning  from  the  firm  of  Morrison 
and  Brooks  almost  as  soon  as  the  partnership  deed 
was  signed.  I  went  to  see  Mr.  Ascough  and  told 
him  about  your  offer,  and  he,  of  course,  explained 
the  position  to  me." 

"  But,"  —  Mr.  Bullsom  paused  as  though  striv- 
ing to  straighten  out  the  matter  in  his  own  mind, — 
"  but  if  you  are  Lord  Arranmore's  son  there  is  no 
secret  about  it,  is  there?  Why  do  you  still  call 
yourself  Mr.  Brooks?" 

Mr.  Bullsom,  whose  powers  of  observation  were 
not  remarkably  acute,  looking  steadily  into  his  visi- 
tor's face,  saw  there  some  signs  of  a  certain  change 
which  others  had  noticed  and  commented  upon  dur- 
ing the  last  few  months  —  a  hardening  of  expres- 
sion and  a  slight  contraction  of  the  mouth.  For 
Brooks  had  spent  many  sleepless  nights  pondering 
upon  this  new  problem  which  had  come  into  his  life. 

"  I  do  not  feel  inclined,"  he  said,  quietly,  "  for 
many  reasons,  to  accept  the  olive-branch  which  it 
has  pleased  my  father  to  hold  out  to  me  after  all 
these  years.  I  have  still  some  faint  recollections  of 
the  close  of  my  mother's  life  —  hastened,  I  am  sure, 


MR.   BULLSOM   IS    STAGGERED        267 

by  anxiety  and  sorrow  on  his  account.  I  remember 
my  own  bringing  up,  the  loneliness  of  it.  I  remem- 
ber many  things  which  Lord  Arranmore  would  like 
me  now  to  forget.  Then,  too,  my  father  and  I  are 
as  far  apart  as  the  poles.  He  has  not  the  least  sym- 
pathy with  my  pursuits  or  the  things  which  I  find 
worth  doing  in  life.  There  are  other  reasons  which 
I  need  not  trouble  you  with.  It  is  sufficient  that  for 
the  present  I  prefer  to  remain  Mr.  Brooks,  and  to 
lead  my  own  life." 

"  But  —  you  won't  be  offended,  but  I  want  to 
understand.  The  thing  seems  such  a  muddle  to  me. 
You  've  given  up  your  practice  —  how  do  you  mean 
to  live?" 

"  There  is  an  income  which  comes  to  me  from  the 
Manor  of  Kingston,"  Brooks  answered,  "  settled  on 
the  eldest  sons  of  the  Arranmore  peerage,  with 
which  my  father  has  nothing  to  do.  This  alone  is 
comparative  wealth,  and  there  are  accumulations 
also." 

"  It  don't  seem  natural,"  Mr.  Bullsom  said.  "  If 
you  '11  excuse  my  saying  so,  it  don't  sound  like 
common-sense.  You  can  live  on  what  terms  you 
please  with  your  father,  but  you  ought  to  let  people 
know  who  you  are.  Great  Scott,"  he  added,  with  a 
little  chuckle,  "  what  will  Julia  and  the  girls  say  ?  " 

"  You  will  understand,  Mr.  Bullsom,"  Brooks  said, 
hastily,  "  that  I  trust  you  to  preserve  my  confidence 
in  this  matter.  I  have  told  you  because  I  wanted  you 
to  understand  why  I  could  not  accept  this  invitation 
to  contest  the  borough,  also  because  you  were  one  of 
my  best  friends  when  I  was  here.  But  you  are  the 
only  person  to  whom  I  have  told  my  secret." 


268  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Mr.  Bullsom  sighed.  It  would  have  been  such  a 
delightful  disclosure. 

"  As  you  wish,  of  course,"  he  said.  "  But  my  — 
it  don't  seem  possible!  Lord  Arranmore's  son — the 
Marquis  of  Arranmore !  Gee  whiz !  " 

"  Some  day,  of  course,"  Brooks  said,  "  it  must 
come  out.  But  I  don't  want  it  to  be  yet  awhile. 
If  that  clock  is  right  had  n't  I  better  be  going 
up-stairs?  " 

Mr.  Bullsom  nodded. 

"  If  you  '11  come  with  me,"  he  said,  "  I  '11  show 
you  your  room." 


CHAPTER   IX 

GHOSTS 

BROOKS,  relieved  that  his  explanation  with  Mr. 
Bullsom  was  over,  was  sufficiently  entertaining 
at  dinner-time.  He  sat  between  Selina  and  Louise, 
and  made  himself  agreeable  to  both.  Mr.  Bullsom 
for  half  the  time  was  curiously  abstracted,  and  for 
the  remainder  almost  boisterous.  Every  now  and 
then  he  found  himself  staring  at  Brooks  as  though 
at  some  natural  curiosity.  His  behaviour  was  so 
singular  that  Selina  commented  upon  it. 

"  One  would  think,  papa,  that  you  and  Mr.  Brooks 
had  been  quarrelling,"  she  remarked,  tartly.  "  You 
seem  quite  odd  to-night." 

Mr.  Bullsom  raised  his  glass.  He  had  lately  im- 
proved his  cellar. 

"  Drink  your  health,  Brooks,"  he  said,  looking 
towards  him.  "  We  had  an  interesting  chat,  but 
we  didn't  get  quarrelling,  did  we?" 

"  Nor  are  we  ever  likely  to,"  Brooks  answered, 
smiling.  "  You  know,  Miss  Bullsom,  your  father 
was  my  first  client  of  any  importance,  and  I  shan't 
forget  how  glad  I  was  to  get  his  cheque." 

"  I  'm  very  pleased  that  he  was  useful  to  you," 
Selina  answered,  impressively.  "  Will  you  tell  me 
something  that  we  want  to  know  very  much?" 


270  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"Certainly!" 

"  Are  you  really  not  coming  back  to  Medchester 
to  live?"" 

Brooks  shook  his  head. 

"  No.  I  am  settling  down  in  London.  I  have 
found  some  work  there  I  like." 

"  Then  are  you  the  Mr.  Brooks  who  has  started 
what  the  Daily  Courier  calls  a  '  Whiteby's  Charity 
Scheme '  in  the  East  End  ?  " 

"  Quite  true,  Miss  Bullsom.  And  your  cousin  is 
helping  me." 

Selina  raised  her  eyebrows. 

"  Dear  me,"  she  said,  "  I  had  no  idea  that  Mary 
had  time  to  spare  for  that  sort  of  thing,  had  you, 
father?" 

"  Mary  can  look  after  herself,  and  uncommonly 
well  too,"  Mr.  Bullsom  answered. 

"  She  comes  mostly  in  the  evening,"  Brooks  ex- 
plained, "  but  she  is  one  of  my  most  useful  helpers." 

"  It  must  be  so  interesting  to  do  good,"  Louise 
said,  artlessly.  "  After  dinner,  Mr.  Brooks,  will 
you  tell  us  all  about  it  ?  " 

"  It  seems  so  odd  that  you  should  care  so  much 
for  that  sort  of  thing,"  Selina  remarked.  "As  a 
rule  it  is  the  frumpy  and  uninteresting  people  who 
go  in  for  visiting  the  poor  and  doing  good,  is  n't 
it  ?  You  seem  so  young,  and  so  —  oh,  I  don't  think 
I  'd  better  go  on." 

"  Please  do,"  Brooks  begged. 

"  Well,  you  won't  think  I  was  trying  to  flatter, 
will  you,  but  I  was  going  to  say,  and  too  clever  for 
that  sort  of  thing." 

Brooks  smiled. 


GHOSTS  "  271 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  the  reason  that  social  re- 
form is  so  urgently  needed  in  so  many  ways  is  for 
that  very  reason,  Miss  Bullsom  —  that  the  wrong 
sort  of  person  has  been  going  in  for  it.  Looking 
after  the  poor  has  meant  for  most  people  handing 
out  bits  of  charity  on  the  toasting-fork  of  religion. 
And  that  sort  of  thing  does  n't  tend  to  bridge  over 
the  gulf,  does  it?  " 

"  Toasting-fork !  "  Selina  giggled.  "  How  funny 
you  are,  Mr.  Brooks." 

"  Am  I?  "  he  answered,  good-humouredly.  "Now 
let  me  hear  what  you  have  been  doing  since  I  saw 
you  in  town." 

Selina  was  immediately  grave  —  not  to  say  scorn- 
ful. 

"  Doing !  What  do  you  suppose  there  is  to  do- 
here?  "  she  exclaimed,  reproachfully.  "  We  've  been 
sitting  still  waiting  for  something  to  happen.  But 
—  have  you  said  anything  to  Mr.  Brooks  yet, 
papa?  " 
..  Mr.  Bullsom  shook  his  head. 

"  Have  n't  had  time,"  he  answered.  "  Brooks  had 
so  much  to  say  to  me.  You  knew  all  about  our  land 
company,  Brooks,  of  course?  You  did  a  bit  of  con- 
veyancing for  us." 

"  Of  course  I  did,"  Brooks  answered,  "  and  I  told 
you  from  the  first  that  you  were  going  to  make  a 
lot  of  money  by  it." 

Mr.  Bullsom  glanced  around  the  room.  The  two 
maid-servants  were  at  the  sideboard. 

"  Guess  how  much." 

Brooks  shook  his  head. 

"I  never  knew  your  exact  share,"  he  said. 


272  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  It 's  half  a  million,"  Mr.  Bullsom  said,  pulling 
down  his  waistcoat,  and  squaring  himself  to  the  table. 
"  Not  bad,  eh,  for  a  country  spec?  " 

"  It 's  wonderful,"  Brooks  admitted.  "  I  congrat- 
ulate you  heartily." 

"  Thanks,"  Mr.  Bullsom  answered. 

"  We  want  papa  to  buy  a  house  in  the  country,  and 
go  to  town  for  the  season,"  Selina  said.  "  So  long 
as  we  can  afford  it  I  am  dying  to  get  out  of  Med- 
chester.  It  is  absolutely  the  most  commercial  town 
I  have  ever  been  in." 

"  Your  father  should  stand  for  Parliament  him- 
self," Brooks  suggested. 

It  is  really  possible  that  Mr.  Bullsom,  being  a 
man  governed  entirely  by  one  idea  at  a  time, 
had  never  seriously  contemplated  the  possibility 
of  himself  stepping  outside  the  small  arena  of 
local  politics.  It  is  certain  at  any  rate  that 
Brooks'  words  came  to  him  as  an  inspiration. 
He  stared  for  a  moment  into  his  glass  —  then 
at  Brooks.  Finally  he  banged  the  table  with  the 
flat  of  his  hand. 

"  It 's  an  idea!  "  he  exclaimed.    "  Why  not?  " 

"  Why  not,  indeed  ?  "  Brooks  answered.  "  You  'd 
be  a  popular  candidate  for  the  borough." 

"  I  'm  chairman  of  the  committee,"  Mr.  Bullsom 
declared ;  "  I  '11  propose  myself.  I  've  taken  the  chair 
at  political  dinners  and  meetings  for  the  last  twenty 
years.  I  know  the  runs,  and  the  people  of  Medchester 
know  me.  Why  not,  indeed?  Mr.  Brooks,  sir,  you're 
a  genius." 

"  You  'ave  given  him  something  to  think  about," 
Mrs.  Bullsom  murmured,  amiably.  "  I  'd  be  willing 


GHOSTS  273 

enough  but  for  the  late  hours.  They  never  did  agree 
with  Peter  —  did  they?  He's  always  been  such  a 
one  for  his  rest." 

Mr.  Bullsom's  thumbs  made  their  accustomed 
pilgrimage. 

"  In  the  service  of  one's  country,"  he  said,  "  one 
should  be  prepared  to  make  sacrifices.  The  cham- 
pagne, Amy.  Besides,  one  can  always  sleep  in  the 
morning." 

Selina  and  Louise  exchanged  glances,  and  Selina, 
as  the  elder,  gave  the  project  her  languid  approval. 

"  It  would  be  nice  for  us  in  a  way,"  she  remarked. 
"  Of  course  you  would  have  a  house  in  London  then, 
papa,  and  being  an  M.P.  you  would  get  cards  for  us 
to  a  lot  of  '  at  homes '  and  things.  Only  I  wish  you 
were  a  Conservative." 

"  A  Liberal  is  much  more  fashionable  than  he 
was,"  Brooks  assured  her,  cheerfully. 

"  Fashionable !  I  know  the  son  of  a  Marquis,  a 
Lord  himself,  who 's  a  Liberal,  and  a  good  one,"  Mr. 
Bullsom  remarked,  with  a  wink  to  Brooks. 

"  Well,  my  dears,"  Mrs.  Bullsom  said,  making  an 
effort  to  rise,  and  failing  at  the  first  attempt,  "  shall 
we  leave  the  gentlemen  to  talk  about  it  over  their 
wine?  " 

"  Oh,  you  sit  down  again,  mother,"  Selina  directed. 
"  That  sort  of  thing 's  quite  old-fashioned,  is  n't  it, 
Mr.  Brooks  ?  We  're  going  to  stay  with  you.  You 
can  smoke.  Ann,  bring  the  cigars." 

Mrs.  Bullsom,  who  was  looking  forward  to  a  nap 
in  a  quiet  corner  of  the  drawing-room,  obeyed  with 
resignation  written  large  on  her  good-natured,  some- 
what flushed  face.  But  Mr.  Bullsom,  who  wanted 

18 


274  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

to  revert  to  the  subject  which  still  fascinated  him, 
grunted. 

"  Hang  these  new  ideas,"  he  said.  "  It 's  you 
they  're  after,  Mr.  Brooks.  As  a  rule,  they  're  off 
before  I  can  get  near  my  cigar-box." 

Selina  affected  a  little  consciousness,  which  she  felt 
became  her. 

"  Such  foolishness,  papa.  You  don't  believe  it,  do 
you,  Mr.  Brooks  ?  " 

"Am  I  not  to,  then?"  he  asked,  looking  down 
upon  her  with  a  smile.  Whereupon  Selina's  con- 
sciousness became  confusion. 

"  How  stupid  you  are,"  she  murmured.    "  You  can 
believe  just  what  you  like.    What  are  you  looking  at 
over  in  the  corner  of  the  room?  " 
1     "  Ghosts,"  he  answered. 

Yet  very  much  as  those  images  flitted  at  that  mo- 
ment through  his  brain,  so  events  were  really  shaping 
themselves  in  that  bare  clean-swept  room  into  which 
his  eyes  had  for  a  moment  strayed  away.  Mary  Scott 
was  there,  her  long  apron  damp  with  soap-suds  and 
her  cheeks  red  with  exertion,  for  she  had  just  come 
from  bathing  twelve  youngsters,  who,  not  being  used 
to  the  ordeal,  had  given  trouble.  There  were  other 
of  his  helpers  too,  a  dozen  of  them  up  to  their  eyes 
in  work,  and  a  long  string  of  applicants  patiently 
waiting  their  turn.  The  right  sort  too  —  the  sort 
from  underneath  —  pale-faced,  hollow-eyed,  weary, 
yet  for  a  moment  stirred  from  their  lethargy  of  suf- 
fering at  the  prospect  of  some  passing  relief.  There 
was  a  young  woman,  hollow-cheeked,  thin  herself 
as  a  lath,  eager  for  work  or  chance  of  work  for  her 
husband  —  that  morning  out  of  hospital,  still  too  deli- 


GHOSTS  275 

cate  to  face  the  night  air  and  the  hot  room.  He  knew 
shorthand,  could  keep  books,  typewrite,  a  little  slip 
about  his  character,  but  that  was  all  over  and  done 
with.  A  bank  clerk  with  £90  a  year,  obliged  to  wear 
a  silk  hat,  who  marries  a  penniless  girl  on  his  summer 
holiday.  They  must  live,  both  of  them,  and  the  gold 
passed  through  his  fingers  day  by  day,  an  endless 
shower.  The  magistrates  had  declined  to  sentence 
him,  but  the  shame  —  and  he  was  never  strong. 
Brooks  saw  the  card  made  out  for  that  little  cottage 
at  Hastings,  and  enclosed  with  the  railway  ticket  — 
Owston  was  picking  up  fast  there  —  and  smiled 
faintly.  He  saw  the  girl  on  her  breathless  way  home 
with  the  good  news,  saw  her  wet  face  heaven  turned 
for  the  first  time  for  many  a  month.  There  were 
men  and  women  in  the  world  with  hearts  then.  They 
were  not  all  puppets  of  wood  and  stone,  even  as  those 
bank  directors.  Then,  too,  she  would  believe  again 
that  there  might  be  a  God. 

Ghosts !  They  were  plentiful  enough.  There  was 
the  skin-dresser  —  his  fingers  still  yellow  with  the 
dye  of  the  pith.  Things  were  bad  in  Bermondsey. 
The  master  had  gone  bankrupt,  the  American  had 
filched  away  his  trade.  No  one  could  find  him  work. 
He  was  sober  enough  except  at  holiday  time  and  an 
odd  Saturday  —  a  good  currier  —  there  might  be  a 
chance  for  him  in  the  country,  but  how  was  he  to  get 
there?  And  in  any  case  now,  how  could  he?  His 
wife  had  broken  down,  lay  at  home  with  no  disease 
that  a  hospital  would  take  her  in  for,  sinking  for  want 
of  good  food,  worn  out  with  hard  work,  toiling  early 
and  late  to  get  food  for  the  children  until  her  man 
should  get  a  job.  There  was  the  workhouse,  but  it 


276  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

meant  separation,  perhaps  for  ever,  and  they  were 
man  and  wife,  as  much  needed  the  one  by  the  other, 
perhaps  more,  as  their  prototype  in  the  world  of 
plenty.  Again  Brooks  smiled.  He  must  have  seen 
Flitch,  a  capital  chap  Flitch,  making  up  that  parcel  in 
the  grocery  department  and  making  an  appointment 
for  three  days'  time.  And  Merton,  too,  the  young 
doctor,  as  keen  on  the  work  as  Brooks  himself,  but 
paid  for  his  evenings  under  protest,  overhears  the 
address  —  why,  it  was  only  a  yard  or  two.  He  would 
run  back  with  the  man  and  have  a  look  at  his  wife. 
He  had  some  physic  —  he  felt  sure  it  was  just  what 
she  wanted.  So  out  into  the  street  together,  and  no 
wonder  the  yellow-stained  fingers  that  grasped  the 
string  of  the  parcel  shook,  and  the  man  felt  an  odd 
lump  in  his  throat,  and  a  wave  of  thankfulness  as  he 
passed  a  flaring  public-house  where  half-an-hour  ago 
he  had  almost  plunged  madly  in  to  find  pluck  for  the 
river  —  devil's  pluck.  The  woman.  Nothing  the 
matter  with  her  but  what  rest  and  good  food  would 
cure.  Another  case  for  that  little  cottage.  Lucky 
there  were  others  being  made  ready. 

"  What  sort  of  ghosts,  Mr.  Brooks?  "  Selina  asked, 
a  little  more  sharply. 

He  started,  and  withdrew  his  eyes  at  last. 

"Ah,  Miss  Bullsom,"  he  answered,  "just  the  ghosts 
we  all  carry  with  us,  you  know,  the  ghosts  of  our 
thoughts,  living  and  dead,  good  and  evil." 

"  How  funny  you  are,  Mr.  Brooks,"  she  exclaimed. 


CHAPTER   X 

A   NEW   DON   QUIXOTE 

BROOKS  reached  London  the  next  evening  to  find 
himself  famous.  The  evening  papers,  one  of 
which  he  had  purchased  en  route,  were  one  and  all  dis- 
cussing his  new  charitable  schemes.  He  found  himself 
held  up  at  once  to  ridicule  and  contempt  —  praised 
and  blamed  almost  in  the  same  breath.  The  Daily 
Gazette,  in  an  article  entitled  "  The  New  Utopia," 
dubbed  him  the  "  Don  Quixote  of  philanthropy  "  ; 
the  St.  James's  made  other  remarks  scarcely  so  flatter- 
ing. He  drove  at  once  to  Stepney,  and  found  his 
headquarters  besieged  by  a  crowd  which  his  little  staff 
of  helpers  was  wholly  unable  to  cope  with,  and  half- 
a-dozen  reporters  waiting  to  snatch  a  word  with  him. 
Mary  watched  his  entrance  with  a  little  sigh  of  relief. 

"  I  'm  so  glad  you  have  come,"  she  exclaimed.  "  It 
is  hard  to  send  these  people  away,  but  do  you  know, 
they  have  come  from  all  parts  of  London?  Neither 
Mr.  Flitch  nor  I  can  make  them  understand  that  we 
can  only  deal  with  cases  in  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood. You  must  try." 

Brooks  stood  up  at  once. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  he  said,  "  if  there  has  been  any 
misunderstanding,  but  I  want  you  all  to  remember 


278  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

this.  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  deal  with  any  cases 
to-night  unless  you  are  residents  of  the  immediate 
neighbourhood.  The  list  of  streets  is  on  the  front 
door.  Please  do  not  present  yourselves  before  any  of 
the  desks  unless  you  lodge  or  live  in  one  of  them." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  disappointment,  and  in  the 
background  a  few  growls. 

"  I  hope  before  very  long,"  Brooks  continued,  "  that 
we  shall  have  a  great  many  more  branches  open,  and 
be  able  to  offer  help  to  all  of  you.  But  at  present  we 
cannot  make  any  exceptions.  Will  every  one  except 
our  neighbours  please  help  us  by  leaving  the  room." 

For  the  most  part  he  was  obeyed,  and  then  one  of 
the  reporters  touched  him  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Good-evening,  Mr.  Brooks.  I  am  representing 
the  Evening  Courier.  We  should  be  glad  to  know 
what  your  ideas  are  as  to  the  future  of  this  new  de- 
parture of  yours,  and  any  other  information  you  might 
care  to  give  us.  There  are  some  others  here,  I  see, 
on  the  same  errand.  Any  exclusive  information  you 
cared  to  place  at  my  disposal  would  be  much  valued, 
and  we  should  take  especial  pains  to  put  your  case 
fairly  before  the  public." 

Brooks  smiled. 

"  Really,"  he  said,  "  it  seems  as  though  I  were  on 
my  defence." 

The  reporter  took  out  his  pencil. 

"  Well,  you  know,"  he  said,  "  some  of  the  estab- 
lished charitable  institutions  are  rather  conservative, 
and  they  look  upon  you  as  an  interloper,  and  your 
methods  as  a  little  too  broad." 

"  Well,"  Brooks  said,  "  if  it  is  to  be  war  between 
us  and  the  other  charitable  institutions  you  name, 


A   NEW   DON   QUIXOTE  279 

I  am  ready  for  it,  but  I  cannot  talk  to  you  now.  As 
you  see,  I  have  an  evening's  work  before  me." 

"  When  can  you  spare  me  half-an-hour,  sir?  " 

"At  midnight  —  my  rooms,  10,  Jermyn  Street" 

The  reporter  closed  his  book. 

"  I  don't  wish  to  waste  your  time,  sir,"  he  answered. 
"  If  you  are  not  going  to  say  anything  to  the  others 
before  then  I  will  go  away." 

Brooks  nodded.    The  reporters  whispered  together. 

"  May  we  stay  and  watch  for  a  few  minutes?  "  one 
of  them  asked. 

Brooks  agreed,  and  went  on  with  his  work.  Once 
more  the  human  flotsam  and  jetsam,  worthy  and  un- 
worthy, laid  bare  the  sore  places  in  their  lives,  some- 
times with  the  smooth  tongue  of  deceit,  sometimes 
with  the  unconscious  eloquence  of  suffering  long  pent 
up.  One  by  one  they  found  their  way  into  Brooks' 
ledgers  as  cases  to  be  reckoned  out  and  solved.  And 
meanwhile  nearly  all  of  them  found  some  immedfete 
relief,  passing  out  into  the  night  with  footsteps  a  little 
less  shuffling,  and  hearts  a  little  lighter.  The  night's 
work  was  a  long  one.  It  was  eleven  o'clock  before 
Brooks  left  his  seat  with  a  little  gesture  of  relief  and 
lit  a  cigarette. 

"  I  must  go  and  get  something  to  eat,"  he  said. 
"  Will  you  come,  Miss  Scott?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  have  to  make  out  a  list  of  things  we  want  for 
my  department,"  she  said.  "  Last  night  they  were 
nearly  all  women  here.  Don't  bother  about  me.  Mr. 
Flitch  will  put  me  in  an  omnibus  at  London  Bridge. 
You  must  see  those  reporters.  You  've  read  the  even- 
ing papers,  have  n't  you  ?  " 


280  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Brooks  nodded. 

'  Yes.  I  knew  we  should  have  opposition.  This 
is  n't  even  the  beginning  of  it.  It  won't  hurt  us." 

Nevertheless  Brooks  was  anxious  to  be  properly 
understood,  and  he  talked  for  a  long  time  with  the 
reporter,  whom  he  found  awaiting  him  in  Jermyn 
Street  —  a  pleasant  young  fellow  just  back  from  the 
war,  with  the  easy  manner  and  rattling  conversation 
of  his  order. 

"  You  ought  to  call  in  and  have  a  chat  with  the 
chief,  Mr.  Brooks,"  he  said.  "  He  'd  be  delighted  to 
hear  your  views  personally,  I  'm  sure,  and  I  believe 
you  'd  convert  him.  He 's  a  bit  old-fashioned,  you 
know,  that  is  for  a  sub  —  believes  in  the  orthodox 
societies,  and  makes  a  great  point  of  not  encouraging 
idleness." 

"  I  'd  be  glad  to  some  time,"  Brooks  answered. 
"  But  I  can  tell  you  this.  If  we  can  get  the  money, 
and  I  haven't  asked  for  a  penny  yet,  nothing  in  the 
shape  of  popular  opinion  is  going  to  stop  us.  Idleness 
and  drunkenness,  deceit  and  filthy-mindedness,  and 
all  those  vices  which  I  admit  are  like  a  pestilence 
amongst  these  people,  are  sins  which  we  are  respon- 
sible for,  not  them,  and,  of  course,  we  must  suffer 
to  some  extent  from  them.  But  we  've  got  to  grapple 
with  them.  We  shall  be  taken  advantage  of,  and 
grossly  deceived  continually.  I  know  of  one  or  two 
cases  already.  We  expect  it  —  count  upon  it.  But 
in  the  end  we  shall  come  out  on  the  top.  If  we  are 
consistent  the  thing  will  right  itself." 

"  You  are  a  young  man  to  be  so  interested  in  phil- 
anthropic work,  Mr.  Brooks." 

"  Every  one  seems  to  consider  philanthropy  the 


A   NEW   DON    QUIXOTE  281 

pursuit  of  the  old,"  Brooks  answered.  "  I  don't  know 
why,  I  am  sure." 

"  And  may  I  ask  if  that  is  a  sample  of  your  daily 
correspondence?  "  he  asked,  pointing  to  the  table. 

Brooks  looked  at  the  enormous  pile  of  letters  and 
shook  his  head. 

"  I  have  never  had  more  than  twenty  letters  at  a 
time  in  my  life,"  he  answered.  "  There  seems  to  be 
almost  as  many  thousands  there.  It  is,  I  suppose,  a 
result  of  the  Press  booming  our  modest  little  show. 
I  can  scarcely  feel  as  grateful  as  I  should  like  to. 
Have  another  pipe,  will  you  —  or  a  cigar  ?  I  think 
unless  there 's  anything  else  you  'd  like  to  ask  I  'd 
better  begin  on  these." 

"  Nothing  more,  thanks,"  the  pressman  answered ; 
"  but  if  I  might  I  'd  like  to  stay  while  you  open  a  few. 
There  might  be  something  interesting.  If  you  '11 
forgive  my  remarking  it,  there  seem  to  be  a  good 
many  reoristered  letters.  I  understood  that  you  had 
not  appealed  to  the  public  for  subscriptions." 

"  Neither  have  I,"  Brooks  answered,  stretching  out 
his  hand.  "  If  there  is  money  in  these  it  is  entirely 
unsolicited." 

He  plunged  into  a  correspondence  as  various  as 
it  was  voluminous.  There  were  letters  of  abuse, 
of  sympathy,  of  friendship,  of  remonstrance,  of  re- 
proof. There  were  offers  of  help,  money,  advice, 
suggestions,  and  advertisements.  There  were  small 
sums  of  money,  and  a  few  larger  ones.  He  was 
amused  to  find  that  a  great  many  people  addressed 
him  as  an  infidel  —  the  little  mission  preacher  had 
certainly  been  busy,  and  everywhere  it  seemed  to 
be  understood  that  his  enterprise  was  an  anti-Chris- 


282  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

tian  one.  And  finally  there  was  a  long  packet,  marked 
as  having  been  delivered  by  hand,  and  inside  —  with- 
out a  word  of  any  sort,  or  a  single  clue  as  to  its 
sender  —  a  bank-note  for  one  thousand  pounds. 

Brooks  passed  it  over  to  his  companion,  who  saw 
the  amount  with  a  little  start. 

"  A  thousand  pounds  —  not  even  registered  —  in 
a  plain  envelope.  And  you  have  no  idea  from  whom 
it  came?  " 

"  None  whatever,"  Brooks  answered. 

The  pressman  folded  it  up  silently,  and  passed  it 
back.  He  looked  at  the  huge  pile  of  correspondence 
and  at  Brooks  —  his  dark  thoughtful  face  suddenly 
lit  up  with  a  rare  gleam  of  excitement.  In  his  own 
mind  he  was  making  a  thumb-nail  sketch  of  these 
things.  There  was  material  for  one  of  those  broad, 
suggestive  articles  which  his  editor  loved.  He  wished 
Brooks  good-night. 

"  I  'm  much  obliged  for  all  you  've  toltd  me,"  he 
said.  "  If  you  don't  mind,  I  'd  like  to  drop  in  now 
and  again  down  at  Stepney.  I  believe  that  this  is 
going  to  be  rather  a  big  thing  for  you." 

Brooks  smiled. 

"  So  do  I,"  he  answered.  "  Come  whenever  you 
like." 

Brooks  sank  into  an  easy-chair,  conscious  at  last 
of  a  more  than  ordinary  exhaustion.  He  looked  at 
the  pile  of  newspapers  at  his  feet,  the  sea  of  corre- 
spondence on  the  table  —  his  thoughts  travelled  back 
to  the  bare,  dusty  room  in  Stepney,  with  its  patient, 
white-faced  crowd  of  men  and  women  and  children. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  then  he  had  found  his  life's  work 
here.  If  so  he  need  surely  regret  no  longer  his  lost 


A   NEW   DON   QUIXOTE  283 

political  opportunities.  Yet  in  his  heart  he  knew  that 
it  had  been  from  the  House  of  Commons  he  had 
meant  to  force  home  his  schemes.  To  work  outside 
had  always  seemed  to  him  to  be  labouring  under  a  dis- 
advantage, to  be  missing  the  true  and  best  opportunity 
of  impressing  upon  the  law-makers  of  the  country 
their  true  responsibilities.  But  of  that  there  was  no 
longer  any  hope.  Of  the  House  of  Lords  he  thought 
only  with  a  cold  shiver.  No,  political  life  was  denied 
to  him.  He  must  do  his  best  for  the  furtherance  of 
his  work  outside. 

He  fell  asleep  to  awake  in  the  cold  grey  of  the 
morning,  stiff  and  cramped,  and  cold  to  the  bone. 
Stamping  up  and  down  the  room  in  a  vigorous  at- 
tempt to  restore  his  lost  circulation,  he  noticed  as  he 
passed  the  corner  of  the  table  a  still  unopened  letter 
addressed  to  him  in  a  familiar  handwriting.  He  took 
it  over  to  the  window,  and,  glancing  at  the  faintly- 
sketched  coronet  on  the  back,  turned  it  over  and  broke 
the  seal. 

"ST.  JAMES'S  HOUSE,  LONDON. 
"  Thursday. 

"  MY  DEAR  BROOKS, 

"  I  have  read  with  an  amusement  which  I  am 
sure  you  will  not  fail  to  share,  the  shower  of  con- 
demnation, approval,  and  remonstrance  which  by  your 
doings  in  Stepney  you  appear  to  have  brought  down 
upon  your  head.  The  religious  element  especially,  you 
seem  to  have  set  by  the  ears.  I  sat  within  hearing 
of  our  premier  bishop  last  night  at  dinner,  and  his 
speculations  with  regard  to  you  and  your  ultimate  aims 
were  so  amusing  that  I  passed  without  noticing  it  my 
favourite  entree. 

"  You  will  have  observed  that  it  is  your  anonymity 


284  A   PRINCE  OF   SINNERS 

which  is  the  weapon  of  which  your  antagonists  make 
most  use.  Why  not  dissipate  it  and  confound  them? 
A  Mr.  Brooks  of  unknown  antecedents  might  well  be 
supposed  capable  of  starting  a  philanthropic  work  for 
his  own  good;  the  same  suspicion  could  never  fall  on 
Lord  Kingston  Ross,  a  future  marquis.  You  will  notice 
that  I  make  no  appeal  to  you  from  any  personal  motive. 
I  should  suggest  that  we  preserve  our  present  relations 
without  alteration.  But  if  you  care  to  accept  my  sug- 
gestion I  would  propose  that  you  nominate  me  trustee 
of  your  society,  and  I  will  give,  as  a  contribution  to  its 
funds,  the  sum  of  five  thousand  pounds." 

Brooks  looked  down  the  long  street,  quiet  and 
strangely  unfamiliar  in  the  dawning  light,  and  for 
a  moment  he  hesitated.  The  letter  he  held  in  his  hand 
crushed  up  into  a  shapeless  ball.  It  would  make 
things  very  easy.  And  then  —  a  rush  of  memories. 
He  swung  round  and  sat  down  at  his  desk,  drawing 
paper  and  ink  towards  him. 

"  DEAR  LORD  ARRANMORE,"  he  wrote,  "  I  am  much 
obliged  to  you  for  the  suggestion  contained  in  your 
letter,  but  I  regret  that  its  acceptance  would  involve  the 
carrying  out  on  my  part  of  certain  obligations  which  I 
am  not  at  present  prepared  to  undertake.  We  will, 
therefore,  if  you  please,  allow  matters  to  remain  on  this 
footing. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  KINGSTON  BROOKS." 


Bareheaded  he  stole  out  into  the  street,  and  breathed 
'freely  only  when  he  heard  it  drop  into  the  pillar-box. 


A   NEW   DON    QUIXOTE  285 

For  only  he  himself  knew  what  other  things  went  with 
the  rejection  of  that  offer. 

He  crept  up-stairs  to  lie  down  for  a  while,  and  on 
the  way  he  laughed  softly  to  himself. 

"  What  a  fool  she  would  think  me !  "  he  muttered. 
"What  a  fool  I  am!" 


PART  III 

CHAPTER   I 

AN   ARISTOCRATIC   RECRUIT 

AN  early  spring  came  with  a  rush  of  warm  west 
wind,  sunshine,  and  the  perfume  of  blossoming 
flowers.  The  chestnuts  were  out  at  the  Park  fully  a 
week  before  their  time,  and  already  through  the  great 
waxy  buds  the  colour  of  the  coming  rhododendrons 
was  to  be  seen  in  sheltered  corners  of  the  Park. 
London  put  out  its  window  boxes,  and  remembered 
that  it  had,  after  all,  for  two  short  months  a  place 
amongst  the  beautiful  cities  of  the  world.  'Bus  con- 
ductors begun  to  whistle,  and  hansom  cab  drivers  to 
wear  a  bunch  of  primroses  in  their  coats.  Kingston 
Brooks,  who  had  just  left  his  doctor,  turned  into  the 
Park  and  mingled  idly  with  the  throng  of  people. 

For  the  first  time  for  many  months  he  suffered  his 
thoughts  to  travel  over  a  wider  range  than  usual. 
The  doctor's  words  had  been  sharp  and  to  the  point. 
He  must  have  instant  change  —  change,  if  not  of 
scene,  at  least  of  occupation.  Scarcely  to  be  wondered 
at,  Brooks  thought  to  himself,  with  a  faint  smile, 
when  he  thought  of  the  last  twelve  months,  full  to 
the  brim  of  strenuous  labour,  of  ceaseless  striving 
with  a  herculean  task.  Well,  he  was  in  smoother 
waters  now.  He  might  withdraw  his  hand  for  a 


AN   ARISTOCRATIC   RECRUIT          287 

while,  if  necessary.  He  had  gone  his  way,  and  held 
his  own  so  far  against  all  manner  of  onslaught.  Just 
then  he  heard  himself  called  by  name,  and,  looking 
up,  found  himself  face  to  face  with  Sybil  Caroom. 

"Mr.  Brooks!     Is  it  really  you,  then,  at  last?" 

He  set  his  teeth  hard,  but  he  could  not  keep  the 
unusual  colour  from  his  cheeks. 

"  It  is  really  I,  Lady  Sybil.     How  do  you  do?" 

Sybil  was  charming  in  a  lilac-coloured  dress  and 
hat  as  fresh  and  dainty  as  her  own  complexion.  She 
looked  straight  into  his  eyes,  and  told  him  that  he 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself. 

"  Oh,  it 's  not  the  least  use  your  looking  as  though 
you  were  going  to  edge  away  every  moment,"  she 
declared,  laughing.  "  I  am  going  to  keep  you  for 
quite  a  long  time,  and  make  you  tell  me  about  every- 
thing." 

"  In  which  case,  Lady  Sybil,"  her  escort  remarked, 
good-humouredly,  "  you  will  perhaps  find  a  better 
use  for  me  at  some  future  time." 

"  How  sweet  of  you,"  she  answered,  blandly.  "  Do 
you  know  Mr.  Brooks  ?  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks,  Lord 
Bertram.  Mr.  Brooks  is  a  very  old  friend,  and  I 
have  so  many  questions  I  want  to  ask  him." 

Lord  Bertram,  a  slim,  aristocratic  young  man, 
raised  his  hat,  and  glanced  with  some  interest  at 
the  other  man. 

"  The  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks  of  the  East  End  ?  — 
Lavvy's  friend?"  he  asked,  politely. 

Brooks  smiled. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  the  person  who 
is  being  exposed  —  is  n't  that  the  word  ?  I  warn 
you,  Lady  Sybil,  that  I  am  a  questionable  character." 


288  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  I  will  take  the  risk/'  she  answered,  gaily. 

"  I  think  you  may  safely  do  so,"  Lord  Bertram 
answered,  raising  his  hat.  "  Good-morning,  Lady 
Sybil  —  morning,  Mr.  Brooks !  " 

She  led  him  towards  the  chairs. 

"  I  am  going  to  take  the  risk  of  your  being  in  an 
extravagant  frame  of  mind,"  she  said,  "  and  make 
you  pay  for  two  chairs  —  up  here,  on  the  back  row. 
Now,  first  of  all,  do  you  know  that  you  look  shock- 
ingly ill?" 

"  I  have  just  come  from  my  doctor,"  Brooks  an- 
swered. "  He  agrees  with  you." 

"I  am  glad  that  you  have  had  the  sense  to 
go  to  him,"  she  said.  "  Tell  me,  are  you  just 
run  down,  or  is  there  anything  more  serious  the 
matter  ?  " 

"  Nothing  serious  at  all,"  he  answered.  "  I  have 
had  a  great  deal  to  do,  and  no  holiday  during  the 
past  year,  so  I  suppose  I  am  a  little  tired." 

"  You  look  like  a  ghost,"  she  said.  "  You  have 
been  overworking  yourself  ridiculously.  Now,  will 
you  be  so  good  as  to  tell  me  why  you  have  never 
been  to  see  us?  " 

"  I  have  been  nowhere,"  he  answered.  "  My  work 
has  claimed  my  undivided  attention." 

"  Nonsense,"  she  answered.  "  You  have  been  liv- 
ing for  a  year  within  a  shilling  cab  ride  of  us,  and 
you  have  not  once  even  called.  I  really  wonder  that 
I  am  sitting  here  with  you,  as  though  prepared  to 
forgive  you.  Do  you  know  that  I  have  written  you 
three  times  asking  you  to  come  to  tea  ?  " 

He  turned  a  very  white  face  upon  her. 

"  Won't  you  understand,"  he  said,  "  that  I  have 


AN   ARISTOCRATIC   RECRUIT          289 

been  engrossed  in  a  work  which  would  admit  of  no 
distraction  ?  " 

"  You  could  find  time  to  go  down  to  Medchester, 
and  make  speeches  for  your  friend  Mr.  Bullsom," 
she  answered. 

"  That  was  different.  I  was  deeply  indebted  to 
Mr.  Bullsom,  and  anxious  to  see  him  returned.  That, 
too,  was  work.  It  is  only  pleasures  which  I  have 
denied  myself." 

"  That,"  she  remarked,  "  is  the  nicest  —  in  fact, 
the  only  nice  thing  you  have  said.  You  have  changed 
since  Enton." 

"  I  have  been  through  a  good  deal,"  he  said, 
wearily. 

She  shuddered  a  little. 

"  Don't  look  like  that,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Forgive 
me,  but  you  made  me  think  —  do  you  remember  that 
night  at  Enton,  when  Lord  Arranmore  spoke  of  his 
work  amongst  the  poor,  how  the  hopelessness  of  it 
began  to  haunt  him  and  weigh  upon  him  till  he 
reached  the  verge  of  madness.  You  had  something 
of  that  look  just  now." 

He  smiled  faintly. 

"  Believe  me,  it  was  fancy,"  he  answered,  earnestly. 
"  Remember,  I  am  a  little  out  of  sorts  to-day.  I  am 
not  discouraged ;  I  have  no  cause  to  be  discouraged. 
A  good  many  of  the  outside  public  misunderstand 
my  work,  and  Mr.  Lavilette  thinks  I  make  money 
out  of  it.  Then,  of  course,  all  the  organized  charities 
are  against  me.  But  in  spite  of  all  I  am  able  to  go 
on  and  increase  day  by  day." 

"  It  is  wonderful,"  she  declared.  "  I  read  every- 
thing in  the  papers  about  you — and  I  get  the  monthly 

'9 


290  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

reports,  for  of  course  I  am  a  subscriber  —  so  is 
mother.  But  —  that  brings  your  shameful  neglect 
of  us  back  into  my  mind.  I  wrote  to  you  begging  to 
be  allowed  to  inspect  one  of  your  branches,  and  all 
I  got  back  was  a  polite  reply  from  your  secretary  to 
the  effect  that  the  general  public  —  even  subscribers 
—  were  never  allowed  in  any  of  the  branches  as 
sightseers,  and  that  all  I  could  see  was  the  stores 
and  general  arrangements,  for  which  he  enclosed  a 
view-card." 

"  Well,"  Brooks  said,  "  you  don't  think  that  poor 
people  who  come  to  you  for  help  should  be  exposed 
to  the  casual  inspection  of  visitors  who  want  to  see 
how  it  is  done,  do  you?  I  have  always  been  very 
particular  about  that.  We  should  not  allow  the 
Prince  of  Wales  in  the  room  whilst  we  were  dealing 
with  applicants." 

"  Well,  you  might  have  written  yourself,  or  come 
and  seen  us,"  Sybil  declared,  a  little  irrelevantly. 
"Why  couldn't  I  be  an  occasional  helper?" 

"  There  is  not  the  slightest  reason  why  you  should 
not,"  he  answered.  "  We  have  seventeen  hundred  on 
the  books,  but  we  could  always  do  with  more,  es- 
pecially now  we  are  opening  so  many  more  branches. 
But,  you  know,  we  should  expect  you  to  come  some- 
times, and  how  would  Lady  Caroom  like  that  ?  " 

She  laughed. 

"  You  know  how  much  mother  and  I  interfere 
with  one  another,"  she  answered.  "  Besides,  I  have 
several  friends  who  are  on  your  list,  and  who  are 
sent  for  now  and  then  —  Edie  Gresham  and  Mary 
Forbrooke." 

"It  is  rough  work,"  he  said;    "but,  of  course,  if 


AN   ARISTOCRATIC   RECRUIT          291 

you  like,  my  secretary  shall  put  your  name  down, 
and  you  will  get  a  card  then  telling-  you  what  week 
to  come.  It  will  be  every  afternoon  for  a  week,  you 
know.  Then  you  are  qualified,  and  we  might  send 
for  you  at  any  time  if  we  were  short." 

"  I  should  come,"  she  said. 

A  coach  passed  by,  with  its  brilliant  load  of  women 
in  bright  gowns  and  picture  hats,  and  two  or  three 
immaculate  men.  They  both  looked  up,  and  followed 
it  with  their  eyes. 

"  Lord  Arranmore,"  Sybil  exclaimed,  "  and  that 
is  the  Duchess  of  Eversleigh  with  him  on  the  box. 
It  doesn't  seem  —  the  same  man,  does  it?" 

Brooks  smiled  a  little  bitterly. 

"  The  same  man,"  he  repeated.     "  No !  " 

They  were  silent  for  a  few  moments.  Then 
Sybil  turned  towards  him  with  a  little  impetuous 
movement. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  "  let  us  talk  about  yourself 
now.  What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"To  do?"  he  repeated,  vaguely.     "Why " 

"  About  your  health,  of  course.  You  admitted  a 
few  minutes  ago  that  you  had  been  to  see  your 
doctor." 

"  Why  —  I  suppose  I  must  ease  up  a  little." 

"Of  course  you  must.  When  will  you  come  and 
dine  quietly  with  us  in  Berkeley  Square,  and  go  to 
the  theatre?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  It  is  kind  of  you,"  he  said,  "but " 

"  When  will  you  come  and  have  tea  with  me, 
then?" 

He  set  his  teeth.    He  had  done  his  best. 


292  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

•*_ 

"  Whenever  you  choose  to  ask  me/'  he  answered, 
with  a  sort  of  dogged  resignation. 

She  looked  at  him  half  curiously,  half  tenderly. 

"  You  are  so  much  changed,"  she  murmured, 
"  since  those  days  at  Enton.  You  were  a  boy  then, 
although  you  were  a  thoughtful  one  —  now  you  are 
a  man,  and  when  you  speak  like  that,  an  old  man. 
Come,  I  want  the  other  Mr.  Brooks." 

He  sat  quite  still.  Perhaps  at  that  moment  of 
detachment  he  realized  more  keenly  than  ever  the 
withering  nature  of  this  battle  through  which  he 
had  passed.  Indeed,  he  felt  older.  Those  days  at 
Enton  lay  very  far  back,  yet  the  girl  by  his  side 
made  him  feel  as  though  they  had  been  but  yester- 
day. He  glanced  at  her  covertly.  Gracious,  fresh, 
and  as  beautiful  as  the  spring  itself.  What  demon 
of  mischief  had  possessed  her  that  she  should,  with 
all  her  army  of  admirers,  her  gay  life,  her  host  of 
pleasures,  still  single  him  out  in  this  way  and  bring 
back  to  his  memory  days  which  he  had  told  himself 
he  had  wholly  forgotten?  She  was  not  of  the  world 
of  his  adoption,  she  belonged  to  the  things  which  he 
had  forsworn. 

"  The  other  Mr.  Brooks,"  he  murmured,  "  is  dead. 
He  has  been  burned  in  the  furnace  of  this  last  won- 
derful year.  That  is  why  I  think  —  I  fear  it  is  no 
use  your  looking  for  him  —  and  you  would  not  wish 
to  have  a  stranger  to  tea  with  you." 

"  That,"  she  said,  "  is  ingenious,  but  not  convinc- 
ing. So  you  will  please  come  to-morrow  at  four 
o'clock.  I  shall  stay  in  for  you." 

"  At  four  o'clock,"  he  repeated,  helplessly. 

Lady  Caroom  waved  to  them  from  the  path. 


AN  ARISTOCRATIC  RECRUIT         293 

"  Sybil,  come  here  at  once,"  she  exclaimed,  "  and 
bring  Mr.  Brooks  with  you.  Dear  me,  what  trouble- 
some people  you  have  been  to  find.  I  am  very  glad 
indeed  to  see  you  again." 

She  looked  Brooks  in  the  face  as  she  held  his  hand, 
and  with  a  little  start  he  realized  that  she  knew. 

"  You  most  quixotic  of  young  men,"  she  exclaimed, 
"come  home  with  us  at  once,  and  explain  how  you 
dared  to  avoid  us  all  this  time.  What  a  ghost  you 
look.  I  hope  it  is  your  conscience.  Don't  pretend 
you  can't  sit  with  your  back  to  the  horse,  but  get  in 
there,  sir,  and  —  James,  the  little  seat  —  and  make 
yourself  as  comfortable  as  you  can.  Home,  James! 
Upon  my  word,  Mr.  Brooks,  you  look  like  one  of 
those  poor  people  whom  you  have  been  working  for 
in  the  slums.  If  starvation  was  catching,  I  should 
think  that  you  had  caught  it.  You  must  try  my 
muffins." 

Sybil  caught  his  eye,  and  laughed. 

"Mother  hasn't  altered  much,  has  she?"  she 
asked. 


CHAPTER    II 

MR.    LAVILETTE   INTERFERES 

"TT7HAT  is  this  Kingston  Brooks'  affair  that 

VV  Lavilette  has  hold  of  now?"  yawned  a 
man  over  his  evening  papers.  "  That  fellow  will 
get  into  trouble  if  he  does  n't  mind." 

"  Some  new  sort  of  charity  down  in  the  East 
End,"  one  of  the  little  group  of  club  members  re- 
plied. "  Fellow  has  a  lot  of  branches,  and  tries  to 
make  'em  a  sort  of  family  affair.  He  gets  a  pile  of 
subscriptions,  and  declines  to  publish  a  balance-sheet. 
Lavilette  seems  to  think  there 's  something  wrong 
somewhere." 

"  Lavilette 's  such  a  suspicious  beggar,"  another 
man  remarked.  "  The  thing  seems  all  right.  I  know 
people  who  are  interested  in  it,  who  say  it 's  the  most 
comprehensive  and  common-sense  charity  scheme  of 
the  day." 

"  Why  does  n't  he  pitch  into  Lavilette,  then  ? 
Lavilette  's  awfully  insulting.  Brooks  the  other  day 
inserted  an  acknowledgment  in  the  papers  of  the 
receipt  of  one  thousand  pounds  anonymous.  You 
saw  what  Lavilette  said  about  it  ?  " 

"No.     What?" 

"  Oh,  he  had  a  little  sarcastic  paragraph  —  de- 
clined to  believe  that  Brooks  had  ever  received  a 


MR.  LAVILETTE   INTERFERES         295 

thousand  pounds  anonymously  —  challenged  him  to 
give  the  number  of  the  note,  and  said  plainly  that 
he  considered  it  a  fraud.  There's  been  no  reply 
from  Brooks." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"This  week's  Verity.     Here  it  is!" 

"  We  have  received  no  reply  from  Mr.  Kingston 
Brooks  up  to  going  to  press  with  respect  to  our  remark 
concerning  the  thousand  pounds  alleged  to  have  been 
received  by  him  from  an  anonymous  giver.  We  may 
add  that  we  scarcely  expected  it.  Yet  there  is  another 
long  list  of  acknowledgments  of  sums  received  by  Mr. 
Brooks  this  morning.  We  are  either  the  most  credulous 
nation  in  the  world,  or  there  are  a  good  many  people 
who  don't  know  what  to  do  with  their  money.  We 
should  like  to  direct  their  attention  to  half-a-dozen 
excellent  and  most  deserving  charities  which  we  can 
personally  recommend,  and  whose  accounts  will  always 
stand  the  most  vigorous  examination." 

"  H'm !  That 's  pretty  strong,"  the  first  speaker 
remarked.  "  I  should  think  that  that  ought  to  stay 
the  flow  of  subscriptions." 

Lord  Arranmore,  who  was  standing  on  the  hearth- 
rug smoking  a  cigarette,  joined  languidly  in  the 
conversation. 

"  You  think  that  Brooks  ought  to  take  some  notice 
of  Lavilette's  impudence,  then?" 

"  Well,  I  'm  afraid  his  not  doing  so  looks  rather 
fishy,"  the  first  speaker  remarked.  "  That  thousand 
pounds  note  must  have  been  a  sort  of  a  myth." 

"  I  think  not,"  Lord  Arranmore  remarked,  quietly. 
"  I  ought  to  know,  for  I  sent  it  myself." 


296  A   PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

Every  man  straightened  himself  in  his  easy-chair. 
There  was  a  little  thrill  of  interest. 

"  You  're  joking,  Arranmore." 

"  Not  I !  I  've  sent  him  three  amounts  —  anony- 
mously." 

"  Well,  I  'd  no  idea  that  sort  of  thing  was  in  your 
line,"  one  of  the  men  exclaimed. 

"  More  it  is,"  Arranmore  answered.  "  Personally, 
I  don't  believe  in  charity  —  in  any  modern  applica- 
tion of  it  at  any  rate.  But  this  man  Brooks  is  a 
decent  sort." 

''  You  know  who  Brooks  is,  then?  " 

"  Certainly.  He  was  my  agent  for  a  short  time 
in  Medchester." 

Mr.  Hennibul,  who  was  one  of  the  men  sitting 
round,  doubled  his  copy  of  Verity  up  and  beat  the 
air  with  it. 

"  I  knew  I  'd  heard  the  name,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Why,  I  Ve  met  him  down  at  Enton.  Nice-look- 
ing young  fellow." 

Arranmore  nodded. 

"  Yes.    That  was  Brooks." 

Mr.  Hennibul's  face  beamed. 

"  Great  Scott,  what  a  haul !"  he  exclaimed.  "Why, 
you  've  got  old  Lavilette  on  toast  —  you  've  got  him 
for  suing  damages  too.  If  this  is  why  Brooks  has 
been  hanging  back  —  just  to  let  him  go  far  enough 
—  by  Jove,  he  's  a  smart  chap." 

"  I  don't  fancy  Brooks  has  any  idea  of  the  sort," 
Lord  Arranmore  answered.  "  All  the  same  I  think 
that  Lavilette  must  be  stopped  and  made  to  climb 
down." 

Curiously  enough  he  met  Brooks  the  same  after- 
noon in  Lady  Caroom's  drawing-room. 


MR.  LAVILETTE   INTERFERES         297 

"  This  is  fortunate,"  he  remarked.  "  I  wished  for 
a  few  minutes'  conversation  with  you." 

"  I  am  at  your  service,"  Brooks  answered,  quietly. 

The  room  was  fairly  full,  so  they  moved  a  little 
on  one  side.  Lord  Arranmore  for  a  moment  or  two 
studied  his  son's  face  in  silence. 

"  You  show  signs  of  the  struggle,"  he  remarked. 

"  I  have  been  overworked,"  Brooks  answered.  "A 
week  or  two's  holiday  is  all  I  require  —  and  that  I 
am  having.  As  for  the  rest,"  he  answered,  looking 
Lord  Arranmore  in  the  face,  "  I  am  not  discouraged. 
I  am  not  even  depressed." 

"  I  congratulate  you  —  upon  your  zeal." 

"  You  are  very  good." 

"  I  was  going  to  speak  to  you,"  Lord  Arranmore 
continued,  "  concerning  the  paragraph  in  this  week's 
Verity,  and  these  other  attacks  which  you  seem  to 
have  provoked." 

Brooks  smiled. 

"  You  too !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"I  also ! "  Lord  Arranmore  admitted,  coolly. 
"  You  scarcely  see  how  it  concerns  me,  of  course, 
but  in  a  remote  sense  it  does." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  I  am  a  little  dense,"  Brooks 
remarked. 

"  I  will  not  embarrass  you  with  any  explanation," 
Lord  Arranmore  remarked.  "  But  all  the  same  I 
am  going  to  surprise  you.  Do  you  know  that  I  am 
very  much  interested  in  your  experiment?" 

Brooks  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"Indeed!" 

"  Yes,  I  am  very  much  interested,"  Lord  Arran- 
more repeated.  "  I  should  like  you  to  understand 


298  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

that  my  views  as  to  charity  and  charitable  matters 
remain  absolutely  unaltered.  But  at  the  same  time 
I  am  anxious  that  you  should  test  your  schemes 
properly  and  unhampered  by  any  pressure  from  out- 
side. You  are  all  the  sooner  likely  to  grow  out  of 
conceit  with  them.  Therefore  let  me  offer  you  a 
word  of  advice.  Publish  your  accounts,  and  sue 
Lavvy  for  a  thousand  pounds." 

Brooks  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  My  own  idea,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  was  to  take  no 
notice  of  these  attacks.  The  offices  where  the  finan- 
cial part  of  our  concern  is  managed  are  open  to  our 
subscribers  at  any  time,  and  the  books  are  there  for 
their  inspection.  It  is  only  at  the  branches  where 
we  do  not  admit  visitors." 

"  You  must  remember,"  Lord  Arranmore  said, 
"  that  these  attacks  have  been  growing  steadily  dur- 
ing the  last  few  months.  It  is,  of  course,  no  concern 
of  mine,  but  if  they  are  left  unanswered  surely  your 
funds  must  suffer." 

"  There  have  been  no  signs  of  it  up  to  the  present," 
Brooks  answered.  "  We  have  large  sums  of  money 
come  in  every  day." 

"This  worst  attack,"  Lord  Arranmore  remarked, 
"  only  appeared  in  this  week's  Verity.  It  is  bound 
to  have  some  effect." 

Brooks  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  do  not  fear  it,"  he  answered,  calmly.  "  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  however,  I  am  going  to  form  a  coun- 
cil to  take  the  management  of  the  financial  organiza- 
tion. It  is  getting  too  large  a  thing  for  me  with  all 
my  other  work.  Is  there  anything  else  you  wished 
to  say  to  me?  " 


MR.  LAVILETTE   INTERFERES         299 

The  eyes  of  the  two  men  met  for  a  moment  — 
both  unflinchingly.  Perhaps  they  were  each  search- 
ing for  something  they  could  not  find. 

"  There  is  nothing  else.    Don't  let  me  detain  you." 

Brooks,  who  was  the  leaving  guest,  stepped  quietly 
away,  and  Lord  Arranmore  calmly  outstayed  all  the 
other  callers. 

"  Your  manners,"  Lady  Caroom  told  him,  as  the 
last  of  her  guests  departed,  "  are  simply  hoydenish. 
AVho  told  you  that  you  might  sit  out  all  my  visitors 
in  this  bare- faced  way  ?  " 

'  You,  dear  lady,  or  rather  your  manner,"  he  an- 
swered, imperturbably.  "  It  seemed  to  me  that  you 
were  saying  all  the  time,  '  Do  not  desert  me !  Do  not 
desert  me ! '  And  so  I  sat  tight." 

"  An  imagination  like  yours,"  she  declared,  "  is 
positively  unhealthy.  Arranmore,  what  an  idiot  you 
are." 

"Well?" 

"  Oh,  you  know  all  about  it  —  and  one  hears!  Are 
you  tired  of  your  life?  " 

"  Very,  very  tired  of  it !  "  he  answered.  "  Is  n't 
everybody  ?  " 

"Of  course  not.  Neither  are  you  really.  It  is  only 
a  mood.  Some  day  you  will  succeed  in  what  you 
seem  trying  so  hard  to  do,  and  then  you  will  be  sorry 
—  and  perhaps  some  others !  " 

"  If  one  could  believe  that,"  he  murmured. 

"  Two  months  ago,"  she  continued,  "  every  one 
was  saying  that  you  had  made  up  your  mind  to  end 
your  days  in  the  hunting-field.  All  Melton  was  talk- 
ing about  your  reckless  riding,  and  your  hairbreadth 
escapes." 


300  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  Both  shockingly  exaggerated,"  he  said,  under  his 
breath. 

"  Perhaps;  but  apart  from  the  papers  I  have  seen 
people  who  were  out  and  who  have  told  me  that  you 
rode  with  absolute  recklessness,  simply  and  purely 
for  a  fall,  and  that  you  deserved  to  break  your  neck 
a  dozen  times  over.  Then  there  was  your  week  in 
Paris  with  Prince  Comfrere,  and  now  your  supper- 
parties  are  the  talk  of  London." 

"  They  are  justly  famed,"  he  answered,  gravely, 
"  for  you  know  I  brought  home  the  chef  from  Voil- 
lard's.  I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  ask  you  to  one." 

"  Don't  be  ridiculous,  Arranmore.  Why  do  you 
do  these  things?  Does  it  amuse  you,  give  you  any 
satisfaction?" 

"  Upon  my  word  I  don't  know,"  he  answered. 

"  Then  why  do  you  do  it?  " 

"  Because,"  he  said  slowly,  "  there  is  a  shadow 
which  dogs  me.  I  am  always  trying  to  escape  —  and 
it  is  always  hard  on  my  heels.  You  are  a  woman, 
Catherine,  and  you  don't  know  the  suffering  of  the 
most  intolerable  form  of  ennui  —  loneliness." 

"And  do  you?"  she  asked,  looking  at  him  with 
softening  eyes. 

"  Always.  It  rode  with  me  in  the  turnkey  frill  — 
and  sometimes  perhaps  it  lifted  my  spurs  —  why  not? 
And  at  these  suppers  you  speak  of,  well,  they  are  all 
very  gay  —  it  is  I  only  who  have  bidden  them,  who 
reap  no  profit.  For  whosoever  may  sit  there  the 
chair  at  my  side  is  always  empty." 

"  You  speak  sadly,"  she  said,  "  and  yet " 

"Yet  what?" 

"  To  hear  you  talk,  Arranmore,  with  any  real  feel- 


MR.  LAVILETTE   INTERFERES         301 

ing  about  anything  is  always  a  relief,"  she  said. 
"  Sometimes  you  speak  and  act  as  though  every 
emotion  which  had  ever  filled  your  life  were  dead, 
as  though  you  were  indeed  but  the  shadow  of  your 
former  self.  Even  to  know  that  you  feel  pain  is  bett^ 
than  to  believe  you  void  of  any  feeling  whatever." 

"  Then  you  may  rest  content,"  he  told  her  quietly, 
"  for  I  can  assure  you  that  pain  and  I  are  old  friends 
and  close  companions." 

'  You  have  so  much,  too,  which  should  make 
you  happy  —  which  should  keep  you  employed  and 
amused,"  she  said,  softly. 

"  '  Employed  and  amused.' '  His  eyes  flashed 
upon  her  with  a  gleam  of  something  very  much  like 
anger.  "  It  pleases  you  to  mock  me !  " 

"  Indeed  no !  "  she  protested.  "  You  must  not  say 
such  things  to  me." 

"  Then  remember,"  he  said,  bitterly,  "  that  sym- 
pathy from  you  comes  always  very  near  to  mockery. 
It  is  you  and  you  alone  who  can  unlock  the  door 
for  me.  You  show  me  the  key  —  but  you  will  not 
use  it." 

A  belated  caller  straggled  in,  and  Arranmore  took 
his  leave.  Lady  Caroom  for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon 
was  a  little  absent.  She  gave  her  visitors  cold  tea, 
and  seriously  imperilled  her  reputation  as  a  charming 
and  sympathetic  hostess. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   SINGULAR   BEHAVIOUR   OF   MARY   SCOTT 

THE  looking-glass  was,  perhaps,  a  little  merci- 
less in  that  clear  north  light,  but  Mary's  sigh 
as  she  looked  away  from  it  was  certainly  unwar- 
ranted. For,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  she  had  improved 
wonderfully  since  her  coming  to  London.  A  certain 
angularity  of  figure  had  vanished  —  the  fashionable 
clothes  which  Mr.  Bullsom  had  insisted  upon  ordering 
for  her  did  ample  justice  to  her  graceful  curves  and 
lithe  buoyant  figure.  The  pallor  of  her  cheeks,  too, 
which  she  had  eyed  just  now  with  so  much  dissatis- 
faction, was  far  removed  from  the  pallor  of  ill-health ; 
her  mouth,  which  had  lost  its  discontented  droop, 
was  full  of  pleasant  suggestions  of  humour.  She 
was  distinctly  a  very  charming  and  attractive  young 
woman  —  and  yet  she  turned  away  with  a  sigh.  She 
was  twenty-seven  years  old,  and  she  had  been  uncon- 
sciously comparing  herself  with  a  girl  of  eighteen. 

She  drew  down  one  of  the  blinds  and  set  the  tea- 
tray  where  she  could  sit  in  the  shadow.  She  was 
conscious  of  having  dressed  with  unusual  care  —  she 
had  pinned  a  great  bunch  of  fragrant  violets  in  her 
bosom.  She  acknowledged  to  herself  frankly  that 
she  was  anxious  to  appear  at  her  best.  For  there 
had  come  to  her,  in  the  midst  of  her  busy  life  —  a 


SINGULAR  BEHAVIOUR  OF  MARY  SCOTT  303 

life  of  strenuous  endeavour  mingled  with  many  small 
self-denials  —  a  certain  sense  of  loneliness  —  of  in- 
sufficiency —  a  new  thing  to  her  and  hard  to  cope 
with  in  this  great  city  where  friends  were  few.  And 
last  night,  whilst  she  had  been  thinking  of  it,  came 
this  note  from  Brooks  asking  if  he  might  come  to 
tea.  She  had  been  ashamed  of  herself  ever  since. 
It  was  maddening  that  she  should  sit  waiting  for  his 
coming  like  a  blushing  schoolgirl  —  the  colour  ready 
enough  to  stream  into  her  face  at  the  sound  of  his 
footstep. 

He  came  at  last  —  a  surprise  in  more  ways  than 
one.  For  he  had  abandoned  the  blue  serge  and  low 
hat  of  his  daily  life,  and  was  attired  in  frock  coat  and 
silk  hat  —  his  tie  and  collar  of  a  new  fashion,  even 
his  bearing  altered  —  at  least  so  it  seemed  to  her 
jealous  observation.  He  was  certainly  looking  better. 
There  was  colour  in  his  pale  cheeks,  and  his  eyes 
were  bright  once  more  with  the  joy  of  life.  Her 
dark  eyes  took  merciless  note  of  these  things,  and 
then  found  seeing  at  all  a  little  difficult. 

"  My  dear  Mary,"  he  exclaimed,  cheerfully  —  he 
had  fallen  into  the  way  of  calling  her  Mary  lately  — 
"  this  is  delightful  of  you  to  be  in.  Do  you  know 
that  I  am  really  holiday-making?" 

"  Well,"  she  answered,  smiling,  "  I  imagined  that 
you  were  not  on  your  way  eastwards." 

"Where  can  I  sit?  May  I  move  these?"  He 
swept  aside  a  little  pile  of  newspapers  and  books,  and 
took  possession  of  the  seat  which  she  had  purposely 
appropriated.  "  The  other  chairs  are  so  far  off,  and 
you  seem  to  have  chosen  a  dark  corner.  Eastwards, 
no.  I  have  been  at  the  office  all  the  morning,  and  we 


304  ^  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

have  bought  the  property  in  Poplar  Grove  and  the 
house  in  Bermondsey.  Now  I  have  finished  for  the 
day.  Doctor's  orders." 

"  If  any  one  has  earned  a  holiday,"  she  said,  quietly, 
"  you  have.  There  is  some  cake  on  the  table  there." 

"  Thanks.  Well,  it  was  hard  work  at  first.  How 
we  stuck  at  it  down  at  Stepney,  did  n't  we  ?  Six  in 
the  morning  till  twelve  at  night.  And  then  how  we 
rushed  ahead.  It  seems  to  me  that  we  have  been 
doing  nothing  but  open  branches  lately." 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said,  "  that  you  have  stood  it  so 
well.  Why  don't  you  go  away  altogether  for  a  time  ? 
You  have  such  splendid  helpers  now." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  enjoying  myself,"  he  answered,  lightly, 
"  and  I  don't  care  to  be  out  of  touch  with  it  all." 

"  You  enjoy  contrasts,"  she  remarked.  "  I  saw 
your  name  in  the  paper  this  morning  as  one  of  Lady 
Caroom's  guests  last  night." 

He  nodded. 

"  Yes,  Lady  Caroom  has  been  awfully  good  to  me, 
and  I  seem  to  have  got  to  know  a  lot  of  pleasant 
people  in  an  incredulously  short  time." 

"  You  are  a  curious  mixture,"  she  said,  looking  at 
him  thoughtfully. 

"Of  what?"  he  asked,  passing  his  cup  for  some 
more  tea. 

"  Of  wonderful  self-devotion,"  she  answered,  "  and 
a  genuine  and  natural  love  of  enjoyment.  After  all, 
you  are  only  a  boy." 

"  I  fancy,"  he  remarked,  smiling,  "  that  my  years 
exceed  yours." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact  they  don't,"  she  answered, 
"  but  I  was  not  thinking  of  years,  I  was  thinking  of 


SINGULAR  BEHAVIOUR  OF  MARY  SCOTT  305 

disposition.  You  have  set  going  the  greatest  char- 
itable scheme  of  the  generation,  and  yet  you  are  so 
young,  so  very  young." 

He  laughed  a  little  uneasily.  In  some  vague  way 
he  felt  that  he  had  displeased  her. 

"  I  never  pretended,"  he  said,  "  that  I  did  not 
enjoy  life,  that  I  was  not  fond  of  its  pleasures.  It 
was  only  while  my  work  was  insecure  that  I  made 
a  recluse  of  myself.  You,  too,"  he  said,  "  it  is  time 
that  you  slackened  a  little.  Come,  take  an  evening 
off  and  we  will  dine  somewhere  and  go  to  the  theatre." 

How  delightful  it  sounded.  She  felt  a  warm  rush 
of  pleasure  at  the  thought.  They  would  want  her 
badly  at  Stepney,  but 

"  This  evening  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes.  No,  hang  it,  it  can't  be  this  evening.  I  'm 
dining  with  the  Carooms  —  nor  to-morrow  evening. 
Say  Thursday  evening,  will  you  ?  " 

Something  seemed  suddenly  to  chill  her  momen- 
tary gush  of  happiness. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  think  not  just  yet.  We  have 
several  fresh  girls,  you  know  —  it  is  a  bad  time  to  be 
away.  Perhaps  you  will  ask  me  later  on." 

He  laughed  softly. 

"  What  a  funny  girl  you  are,  Mary.  You  'd  really 
rather  stew  in  that  hot  room,  I  believe,  than  go  any- 
where to  enjoy  yourself.  Such  women  as  you  ought 
to  be  canonized.  You  are  saints  even  in  this  life. 
What  can  be  done  for  you  in  the  next  ?  " 

Mary  bit  her  lip  hard,  and  she  bent  low  over  the 
tea-cups.  In  another  moment  she  felt  that  her  self- 
control  must  go.  Fortunately  he  drifted  away  from 
the  subject. 

20 


306  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  Very  soon,"  he  said,  "  we  must  all  have  a  serious 
talk  about  the  future.  The  management  is  getting 
too  big  for  me.  I  think  there  should  be  a  council 
elected  —  something  of  the  sort  must  be  done,  and 
soon." 

"  That,"  she  remarked,  "  is  what  Mr.  Lavilette 
says,  is  n't  it?" 

He  looked  at  her  with  twinkling  eyes. 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  think  I  'm  being  scared  into 
it,"  he  answered.  "  All  the  same,  Lavvy  's  right 
enough.  No  one  man  has  the  right  to  accept 
large  subscriptions  and  not  let  the  public  into  his 
confidence." 

"  Lavilette  does  n't  believe  in  our  anonymous  sub- 
scriptions, does  he?"  she  asked. 

"  No !  He  's  rather  impudent  about  that,  is  n't  he  ? 
I  suppose  I  ought  really  to  set  him  right.  I  should 
have  done  so  before,  but  he  went  about  it  in  such  an 
offensive  manner.  Well,  to  go  on  with  what  I  was 
saying.  You  will  come  on  the  council,  Mary  ?  " 

"I?    Oh,  surely  not!" 

"  You  will !  And,  what  is  more,  I  am  going  to 
split  all  the  branches  up  into  divisions,  and  appoint 
superintendents  and  manageresses,  at  a  reasonable 
salary.  And  you,"  he  concluded,  "  are  going  to  be 
one  of  the  latter." 

She  shook  her  head  firmly. 

"  No !    I  must  remain  my  own  mistress." 

"  Why  not  ?  I  want  to  allot  to  you  the  work 
where  you  can  do  most  good.  You  know  more 
about  it  than  any  one.  There  is  no  one  half  so  suit- 
able. I  want  you  to  throw  up  your  other  work  — 
come  into  this  altogether,  be  my  right  hand,  and  let 


SINGULAR  BEHAVIOUR  OF  MARY  SCOTT  307 

me  feel  that  I  have  one  person  on  the  council  whom 
I  can  rely  upon." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment.  She  leaned  back  in 
her  chair,  but  even  in  the  semi-obscurity  the  extreme 
pallor  of  her  face  troubled  him. 

"  You  must  remember,  too,"  he  said,  "  that  the 
work  will  not  be  so  hard  as  now.  Lately  you 
have  given  us  too  much  of  your  time.  Indeed,  I 
am  not  sure  that  it  is  not  you  who  need  a  holiday 
more  than  I." 

She  raised  her  eyes. 

"  This  is  —  what  you  came  to  say  to  me?  " 

"  Yes.    I  was  anxious  to  get  your  promise." 

There  was  another  short  silence.  Then  she  spoke 
in  dull  even  tones. 

"  I  must  think  it  over.  You  want  nr-  whole  time, 
and  you  want  to  pay  me  for  it." 

"  Yes.  It  is  only  reasonable,  and  we  can  afford 
it.  I  should  draw  a  salary  myself  if  I  had  not  a 
little  of  my  own." 

She  raised  her  eyes  once  more  to  his  mercilessly, 
and  drew  a  quick  little  breath.  Yes,  it  was  there  — 
written  in  his  face  —  the  blank  utter  indifference  of 
good-fellowship.  It  was  all  that  he  had  come  to  ask 
her,  it  was  all  that  he  would  ever  ask  her.  Suddenly 
she  felt  her  heart  throbbing  in  quick  short  beats — her 
cheeks  burned.  They  were  alone  —  even  her  little 
maid  had  gone  out.  Why  was  he  so  miserably  in- 
different? She  stumbled  to  her  feet,  and  suddenly 
stooping  down  laid  her  burning  cheeks  against  his. 

"  Kingston,"  she  said,  "  you  are  so  cruel  —  and 
I  am  so  lonely.  Can't  you  see  that  I  am  miserable? 
Kiss  me!" 


308  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Brooks  sat  petrified,  utterly  amazed  at  this  self- 
yielding  on  the  part  of  the  last  woman  in  this  world 
whom  he  would  ever  have  thought  capable  of  any- 
thing of  the  sort. 

"  Kiss  me  —  at  once." 

He  touched  her  lips  timorously.  Then  she  sprang 
away  from  him,  her  cheeks  aflame,  her  eyes  on  fire, 
her  hair  strangely  ruffled.  She  pointed  to  the  door. 

"  Please  go  —  quickly." 

He  picked  up  his  hat. 

"But,  Mary!   I " 

"Please!" 

She  stamped  her  foot. 

"But " 

"  I  will  write.  You  shall  hear  from  me  to-morrow. 
But  if  you  have  any  pity  for  me  at  all  you  will  go 
now  —  this  moment." 

He  rose  and  went.  She  heard  him  turn  the  handle 
of  the  door,  heard  his  footsteps  upon  the  stone  stairs 
outside. 

She  counted  them  idly.  One,  two,  three,  four  — 
now  he  was  on  the  next  landing.  She  heard  them 
again,  less  distinctly,  always  less  distinctly.  Then 
silence.  She  ran  to  the  window.  There  he  was  upon 
the  pavement,  now  he  was  crossing  the  road  on  his 
way  to  the  underground  station.  She  tore  at  her 
handkerchief,  waved  it  wildly  for  a  moment  —  and 
then  stopped.  He  was  gone  —  and  she.  The  hot 
colour  came  rushing  painfully  into  her  cheeks.  She 
threw  herself  face  downwards  upon  the  sofa. 


CHAPTER   IV 

LORD   ARRANMORE   IN   A    NEW    R6LE 


"fT^HE  epoch-making  nights  of  one's  life,"  Mr. 
Hennibul  remarked,  "  are  few.  Let  us  sit 
down  and  consider  what  has  happened." 

"  A  seat,"  Lady  Caroom  sighed.  "  What  luxury  ! 
But  where?" 

"  My  knowledge  of  the  geography  of  this  house," 
Mr.  Hennibul  answered,  "  has  more  than  once  been 
of  the  utmost  service  to  me,  but  I  have  never  appre- 
ciated it  more  than  at  this  moment.  Accept  my  arm, 
Lady  Caroom." 

They  made  a  slow  circuit  of  the  room,  passed 
through  an  ante-chamber  and  came  out  in  a  sort  of 
winter-garden  looking  over  the  Park.  Lady  Caroom 
exclaimed  with  delight. 

"  You  dear  man,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Of  course  I 
knew  of  this  place  —  is  n't  it  charming  ?  —  but  I  had 
no  idea  that  we  could  reach  it  from  the  reception- 
rooms.  Let  us  move  our  chairs  over  there.  We  can 
sit  and  watch  the  hansoms  turn  into  Piccadilly." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  say,"  he  answered.  "I  wonder 
if  all  London  is  as  excited  to-night  as  the  crowd  we 
have  just  left." 

"  To  me,"  she  murmured,  "  London  seems  always 
imperturbable,  stonily  indifferent  to  good  or  evil.  I 
believe  that  on  the  eve  of  a  revolution  we  should 


310  A   PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

dine  and  go  to  the  theatre,  choose  our  houses  at 
which  to  spend  the  evening,  and  avoid  sweet  cham- 
pagne with  the  same  care.  You  and  I  may  know 
that  to-night  England  has  thrown  overboard  a  na- 
tional policy.  Yet  I  doubt  whether  either  of  us  will 
sleep  the  less  soundly." 

"  Not  only  that,"  he  said,  "  but  the  Government 
have  to-day  shown  themselves  possessed  of  a  pene- 
tration and  appreciation  of  mind  for  which  I  for  one 
scarcely  gave  them  credit.  They  have  made  me  a 
peer." 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  amused  smile. 

"  They  make  judges  and  peers  for  two  reasons," 
she  remarked. 

"  That,  Lady  Caroom,  is  unkind,"  he  said.  "  I 
can  assure  you  that  throughout  my  career  I  have 
never  made  a  nuisance  of  myself  to  any  one.  In 
the  House  I  have  been  a  model  member,  and  I  have 
always  obeyed  my  whip  in  fear  and  trembling.  At 
the  Bar  I  have  been  mildness  itself.  The  St.  James's 
Gazette  speaks  of  my  urbanity,  and  the  courtesy  with 
which  I  have  always  conducted  the  most  arduous 
cross-examination.  You  should  read  the  St.  James's 
Gazette,  Lady  Caroom.  I  do  not  know  the  biograph- 
ical editor,  but  it  is  easy  to  predict  a  future  for  him. 
He  has  common-sense  and  insight.  The  paragraph 
about  myself  touched  me.  I  have  cut  it  out,  and  I 
mean  to  keep  it  always  with  me." 

"  The  Press,"  she  said,  "  have  all  those  things  cut 
and  dried.  No  doubt  if  you  made  friends  with  that 
young  man  he  would  let  you  read  your  obituary  no- 
tice. I  have  a  friend  who  has  corrected  the  proofs 
of  his  already." 


LORD  ARRANMORE  IN  A  NEW  ROLE    311 

Hennibul  smiled. 

"  My  cousin  Avenill,  the  police  magistrate,"  he 
said,  "  actually  read  his  in  the  Times.  He  was  bath- 
ing at  Jersey  and  was  carried  away  by  currents,  and 
picked  up  by  a  Sark  fishing-smack.  They  took  him 
to  Sark,  and  he  was  so  charmed  with  his  surround- 
ings and  the  hospitality  of  the  people  that  he  quite 
forgot  to  let  anybody  know  where  he  was.  When 
he  read  his  obituary  notice  he  almost  decided  to  re- 
main dead.  He  declared  that  it  was  quite  impossible 
to  live  up  to  it." 

"  Our  charity  now-a-days,"  she  remarked,  "always 
begins  with  the  dead." 

"  Let  me  try  and  awaken  yours  towards  the  liv- 
ing ! "  he  said. 

She  laughed. 

"Are  you  smitten  with  the  Brooks'  fever?"  she 
asked. 

"  Mine  is  a  fever,"  he  answered,  "  but  it  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  Brooks.  I  would  try  to  awaken  your 
charity  on  behalf  of  a  perfectly  worthy  object,  myself 
—  vide  the  St.  James's  Gazette" 

"  And  what  do  you  need  from  me  more  than  you 
have?"  she  asked.  "Haven't  you  the  sole  posses- 
sion of  my  society,  the  right  to  bore  me  or  make  me 
happy,  perhaps  presently  the  right  to  feed  me  ?  " 

"  For  a  few  minutes,"  he  answered. 

"  Don't  be  so  sure.     It  may  be  an  hour." 

"  I  want  it,"  he  said,  "  for  longer." 

Something  in  his  tone  suddenly  broke  through  the 
easy  lightness  of  their  conversation.  She  stole  a 
swift  side-glance  at  him,  and  understood. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  "  you  and  I  are  setting  every 


312  A   PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

one  here  a  bad  example.  This  is  not  an  occasion 
for  tete-a-tetes.  We  should  be  doing  our  duty  and 
talking  a  little  to  every  one.  Let  us  go  back  and 
make  up  for  lost  time." 

She  rose  to  her  feet,  but  found  him  standing  in 
the  way.  For  once  the  long  humorous  mouth  was 
set  fast,  his  eyes  were  no  longer  full  of  the  shadow 
of  laughter,  his  tone  had  a  new  note  in  it,  the  note 
which  a  woman  never  fails  to  understand. 

"  Dear  Lady  Caroom,"  he  said,  "  I  was  not  alto- 
gether jesting." 

She  looked  him  in  the  eyes. 

"  Dear  friend,"  she  answered,  "  I  know  that  you 
were  not,  and  so  I  think  that  we  had  better  go 
back." 

He  detained  her  very  gently. 

"  It  is  the  dearest  hope  I  have  in  life,"  he  said, 
softly.  "  Do  not  let  me  run  the  risk  of  being  mis- 
understood. Will  you  be  my  wife?" 

She  shook  her  head.  There  were  tears  in  her  eyes, 
but  her  gesture  was  significant  enough. 

"  It  is  impossible,"  she  said.  "  I  have  loved  an- 
other man  all  my  life." 

He  offered  her  his  arm  at  once. 

"  Then  I  believe,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone,  "  in  the 
old  saying  —  that  a  glimpse  of  paradise  is  sufficient 
to  blind  the  strongest  man.  .  .  ." 

They  passed  into  the  reception-room,  and  came 
face  to  face  with  Brooks.  She  held  out  her  hand. 

"  Come,  you  have  no  right  here,"  she  declared. 
"  You  are  not  even  a  Member  of  Parliament." 

He  laughed. 

"What  about  you?" 


LORD  ARRANMORE  IN  A  NEW  ROLE    313 

"  Oh,  I  am  an  inspiration!  " 

"  I  don't  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  you  realize  in  the 
least  what  is  going  to  happen." 

"  I  do!  "  she  answered.  "  I  am  going  to  make  you 
relieve  Lord  Hennibul,  and  take  me  to  have  an  ice." 

They  moved  off  together.  Hennibul  stood  look- 
ing after  them  for  a  moment.  Then  he  sighed  and 
turned  slowly  away. 

"  If  it 's  Arranmore,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  why  on 
earth  does  n't  he  marry  her  ?  " 

Lady  Caroom  was  more  silent  than  usual.  She 
complained  of  a  headache,  and  Brooks  persuaded  her 
to  take  champagne  instead  of  the  ice. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you  to-night?"  she 
asked,  looking  at  him  thoughtfully.  "You  look  like 
a  boy  —  with  a  dash  of  the  bridegroom." 

He  laughed  joyously. 

"  You  should  read  the  evening  papers — you  would 
understand  a  little  the  practical  effect  of  our  new 
Tariff  Bill.  Mills  in  Yorkshire  and  Lancashire  are 
being  opened  that  have  been  shut  down  for  years; 
in  Medchester,  Northampton,  and  the  boot-centres 
the  unemployed  are  being  swept  into  the  factories. 
Manufacturers  who  have  been  struggling  to  keep 
their  places  open  at  all  are  planning  extensions 
already.  The  wages  bill  throughout  the  country 
will  be  the  largest  next  week  that  has  been  paid 
for  years.  Travellers  are  off  to  the  Colonies  with 
cases  of  samples  —  every  manufacturing  centre  is 
suddenly  alive  once  more.  The  terrible  struggle  for 
existence  is  lightened.  Next  week,"  Brooks  con- 
tinued, with  an  almost  boyish  twinkle  in  his  eyes, 
"  I  shall  go  down  to  Medchester  and  walk  through 


3H  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

the  streets  where  it  used  to  make  our  hearts  ache 
to  see  the  unemployed  waiting  about  like  dumb 
suffering  cattle.  It  will  be  a  holiday  —  a  glorious 
holiday." 

"  And  yet  behind  it  all,"  she  remarked,  watching 
him  closely,  "  there  is  something  on  your  mind. 
What  is  it?" 

He  looked  at  her  quickly. 

"  What  an  observation." 

"Won't  you  tell  me?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  It  is  only  one  of  the  smallest  cupboards,"  he  said. 
"  The  ghost  will  very  soon  be  stifled." 

She  sighed. 

"  Did  you  see  Lord  Arranmore  this  evening?  " 

"  Yes.  He  was  talking  to  the  duke  just  now. 
What  of  him?" 

"  I  have  been  watching  him.  Did  you  ever  see  a 
man  look  so  ill  ?  " 

"  He  is  bored,"  Brooks  answered,  coldly.  "  This 
sort  of  thing  does  not  amuse  him." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  He  is  always  the  same.  He  has  always  that 
weary  look.  He  is  living  with  absolute  recklessness. 
It  cannot  possibly  last  long." 

"  He  knows  the  price,"  Brooks  answered.  "  He 
lives  as  he  chooses." 

"  I  wonder,"  she  murmured.  "  Sometimes  I  won- 
der whether  we  do  not  misjudge  him  —  you  and  I, 
Kingston.  For  you  know  we  have  been  his  judges. 
You  must  not  shake  your  head.  It  is  true.  You 
have  judged  him  to  be  unworthy  of  a  son,  and  I  — 
I  have  judged  him  to  be  unworthy  of  a  wife.  You 


LORD  ARRANMORE  IN  A  NEW  ROLE    315 

don't  think  —  that  we  could  possibly  have  made  a 
mistake  —  that  underneath  there  is  a  little  heart  left 
—  eaten  up  with  pride  and  loneliness  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  seen,"  Brooks  answered,  "the  slight- 
est trace  of  it." 

"  Nor  I,"  she  answered.  "  Yet  I  knew  him  when 
he  was  young.  He  was  so  different,  and  annihilation 
is  very  hard,  is  n't  it?  Supposing  he  were  to  die,  and 
we  were  to  find  out  afterwards?  " 

"  You,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  must  be  the  judge  of 
your  own  actions.  For  my  part  I  see  in  him  only 
the  man  who  abandoned  my  mother,  who  spent  the 
money  of  other  people  in  dissipation  and  worse  than 
dissipation.  Who  came  to  England  and  accepted 
my  existence  after  a  leisurely  interval  as  a  matter 
of  course.  I  have  never  seen  in  any  one  of  his  ac- 
tions, or  heard  in  his  tone  one  single  indication 
of  anything  save  selfishness  so  incarnate  as  to 
have  become  the  only  moving  impulse  of  his 
life.  If  ever  I  could  believe  that  he  cared  for 
me,  would  find  in  me  anything  save  a  convenience, 
I  would  try  to  forget  the  past.  If  he  would  even 
express  his  sorrow  for  it,  show  himself  capable 
of  any  emotion  whatsoever  in  connection  with 
anything  or  any  person  save  himself,  I  would 
be  only  too  thankful  to  escape  from  my  ridiculous 
position." 

Then  they  were  silent  for  a  moment,  each  occupied 
with  their  own  thoughts,  and  Lord  Arranmore,  pale 
and  spare,  taller  than  most  men  there,  notwithstand- 
ing a  recently-acquired  stoop,  came  wearily  over  to 
them. 

"  Dear  me,"  he  remarked,  "  what  gloomy  faces  — 


316  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

and  I  expected  to  see  Brooks  at  least  radiant.    Am  I 
intruding?  " 

"  Don't  be  absurd,  Arranmore,"  she  said  kindly. 
"  Why  don't  you  bring  up  that  chair  and  sit  down  ? 
You  look  tired." 

He  laughed  —  a  little  hardly. 

"  I  have  been  tired  so  long,"  he  said,  "  that  it  has 
become  a  habit.  Brooks,  will  you  think  me  guilty 
of  an  impertinence,  I  wonder  ?  I  have  intruded  upon 
your  concerns." 

Brooks  looked  up  with  his  eyes  full  of  questioning. 

"  That  fellow  Lavilette,"  Arranmore  continued, 
"  seemed  worried  about  your  anonymous  subscrip- 
tion. I  was  in  an  evil  temper  yesterday  afternoon, 
and  Ferity  amused  me.  So  I  wrote  and  confounded 
the  fellow  by  explaining  that  it  was  I  who  sent  the 
money  —  the  thousand  pounds  you  had." 

"  You  ?  "  Lady  Caroom  exclaimed,  breathlessly. 

"You  sent  me  that  thousand  pounds?"  Brooks 
cried. 

They  exchanged  rapid  glances.  A  spot  of  colour 
burned  in  Lady  Caroom's  cheeks.  She  felt  her  heart 
quicken,  an  unspoken  prayer  upon  her  lips. 

Brooks,  too,  was  agitated. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  Lord  Arranmore  remarked, 
coldly,  "  I  really  don't  know  why  my  whim  should 
so  much  astound  you.  I  took  care  to  explain  that  I 
sent  it  without  the  slightest  sympathy  in  the  cause 
—  merely  out  of  compliment  to  an  acquaintance.  It 
was  just  a  whim,  nothing  more,  I  can  assure  you.  I 
think  that  I  won  it  at  Sandown  or  something." 

"  It  was  not  because  you  were  interested  in  this 
work,  then  ?  "  Lady  Caroom  asked,  fearfully. 


LORD  ARRANMORE  IN  A  NEW  ROLE  317 

"  Not  in  the  slightest/'  he  answered.  "  That  is 
to  say,  sympathetically  interested.  I  am  curious.  I 
will  admit  that.  No  more." 

The  colour  faded  from  Lady  Caroom's  cheeks. 
She  shivered  a  little  and  rose  to  her  feet.  Brooks' 
face  had  hardened. 

"  We  are  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  the 
money,"  he  said.  "  As  for  Lavilette,  I  had  not 
thought  it  worth  while  to  reply  to  him." 

Lord  Arranmore  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Nor  should  I  in  your  place,"  he  answered.  "My 
position  is  a  little  different,  of  course.  I  am  posi- 
tively looking  forward  to  my  next  week's  Verity. 
You  are  leaving  now,  I  see.  Good-night ! " 

"  I  have  kept  Mr.  Brooks  away  from  his  friends," 
she  said,  looking  at  him.  "  Will  you  see  me  to  my 
carnage  ?  " 

He  offered  her  his  arm  with  courtly  grace.  They 
passed  down  the  crowded  staircase  together. 

"  You  are  looking  ill,  Philip,"  she  said,  softly. 
"  You  are  not  taking  care  of  yourself." 

"  Care  of  myself,"  he  laughed.  "Why,  for  whom? 
Life  is  not  exactly  a  playground,  is  it?  " 

"  You  are  not  making  the  best  of  it !  " 

"  The  best !    Do  you  want  to  mock  me  ?  " 

"  It  is  you,"  she  whispered,  "  who  stand  before  a 
looking-glass,  and  mock  yourself.  Philip,  be  a  man. 
Your  life  is  one  long  repression.  Break  through  — 
just  once!  Won't  you?" 

He  sighed. 
,     "  Would  you  have  me  a  hypocrite,  Catherine?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  Suddenly  she  looked  up  at 
him. 


3i8  A   PRINCE  OF   SINNERS 

"  Philip,  will  you  promise  me  this  ?  If  ever  your 
impulse  should  come  —  if  you  should  feel  the  desire 
to  speak,  to  act  once  more  as  a  man  from  your  heart 
—  you  will  not  stifle  it.  Promise  me  that." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  faint,  tired  smile. 

"  Yes,  I  promise,"  he  answered. 


CHAPTER   V 

LADY   SYBIL   LENDS   A    HAND 

BROOKS  glanced  at  the  card  which  was  brought 
in  to  him,  at  first  carelessly  enough,  afterwards 
with  mingled  surprise  and  pleasure. 

"  Here  is  some  one,"  he  said  to  Mary  Scott,  "whom 
I  should  like  you  to  meet.  Show  the  young  lady  in,"" 
he  directed. 

Some  instinct  seemed  to  tell  her  the  truth. 

"Who  is  it?"  she  asked  quickly.  "I  am  very- 
busy  this  morning." 

"  It  is  Lady  Sybil  Caroom,"  he  answered.  "Please 
don't  go.  I  should  like  you  to  meet  her." 

Mary  looked  longingly  at  the  door  of  communica- 
tion which  led  into  the  further  suite  of  offices,  but 
it  was  too  late  to  think  of  escape.  Sybil  had  already 
entered,  bringing  into  the  room  a  delicious  odour  of 
violets,  herself  almost  bewilderingly  beautiful.  She 
was  dressed  with  extreme  simplicity,  but  with  a 
delicate  fastidiousness  which  Mary  at  any  rate  was 
quick  to  appreciate.  Her  lips  were  slightly  parted 
in  a  natural  and  perfectly  dazzling  smile.  She  came 
across  to  Brooks  with  outstretched  hand  and  laugh- 
ter in  her  eyes. 

"  Confess  that  you  are  horrified,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  I  don't  care  a  bit.  I  've  waited  for  you  to  take 


320  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

me  quite  long  enough.  If  you  won't  come  now  I 
shall  go  by  myself." 

"  Go  where?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Why,  to  one  of  the  branches  —  I  don't  care 
which.  I  can  help  for  the  rest  of  the  day." 

He  laughed. 

"  Well,  let  me  introduce  you  to  Miss  Scott,"  he 
said,  turning  round.  "  Mary,  this  is  Lady  Sybil 
Caroom.  Miss  Scott,"  he  continued,  turning  to  the 
younger  girl,  "  has  been  my  right  hand  since  we  first 
started.  If  ever  you  do  stand  behind  our  counter  it 
will  have  to  be  under  her  auspices." 

Sybil  turned  courteously  but  wi'th  some  indiffer- 
ence towards  the  girl,  who  was  standing  by  Brooks' 
chair.  In  her  plain  black  dress  and  white  linen  collar 
Mary  perhaps  looked  more  than  her  years,  especially 
by  the  side  of  Sybil.  As  the  eyes  of  the  two  met, 
Sybil  saw  that  she  was  regarded  with  more  than 
ordinary  attention.  She  saw,  too,  that  Mary  was 
neither  so  plain  nor  so  insignificant  as  she  had  at 
first  imagined. 

"  I  am  sure  you  are  very  much  to  be  congratulated, 
Miss  Scott,"  she  said.  "  Mr.  Brooks'  scheme  is  a 
splendid  success,  is  n't  it  ?  You  must  be  proud  of 
your  share  in  it." 

"  My  share,"  Mary  said,  in  quiet,  even  tones,  "  has 
been  very  small  indeed.  Mr.  Brooks  is  alone  re- 
sponsible for  it.  The  idea  was  his,  and  the  organi- 
zation was  his.  We  others  have  been  no  more  than 
machines." 

"  Very  useful  machines,  Mary,"  Brooks  said,  with 
;  a  kind  glance  towards  her.  "  Come,  we  must  n't  any 
•  of  us  belittle  our  share  in  the  work." 


LADY    SYBIL   LENDS   A   HAND        321 

Mary  took  up  some  papers  from  the  desk. 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  "  that  if  you  have  no  more 
messages  for  Mr.  Flitch  I  had  better  start.  We  are 
very  busy  in  Stepney  just  now." 

"  Please  don't  hurry,"  Brooks  said.  "  We  must 
try  and  manage  something  for  Lady  Sybil." 

Mary  looked  up  doubtfully. 

"  Unless  you  ask  Lady  Sybil  to  look  on,"  she 
said,  "  I  don't  quite  see  how  it  is  possible  for  her  to 
come." 

"  Lady  Sybil  knows  the  conditions,"  Brooks  an- 
swered. "  She  wants  to  have  a  try  as  a  helper." 

Mary  raised  her  eyebrows  slightly. 

"  The  chief  work  in  the  morning  is  washing  chil- 
dren," she  remarked.  "  They  come  to  us  in  a  per- 
fectly filthy  condition,  and  we  wash  about  twenty 
each,  altogether." 

Sybil  laughed. 

"  Well,  I  'm  not  at  all  afraid  of  that,"  she  declared. 
"  I  could  do  my  share.  I  rather  like  kiddies." 

"  The  other  departments,"  Mary  went  on,  "  all 
need  some  instruction.  Would  you  think  it  worth 
while  for  one  day?  If  so,  I  should  be  pleased  to  do 
what  I  can  for  you." 

Sybil  hesitated.     She  glanced  towards  Brooks. 

"  I  don't  want  to  give  a  lot  of  unnecessary  trouble, 
of  course,"  she  said.  "  Especially  if  you  are  busy. 
But  it  might  be  for  more  than  one  day.  You  have 
a  staff  of  supernumerary  helpers,  have  n't  you,  whom 
you  send  for  when  you  are  busy?  I  thought  that  I 
might  be  one  of  those." 

"  In  that  case,"  Mary  answered,  "  I  shall  be  very 
glad,  of  course,  to  put  you  in  the  way  of  it.  I  am 


.322  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

going  to  my  own  branch  this  morning  at  Stepney. 
Will  you  come  with  me?" 

"  If  you  are  sure  I  shan't  be  a  nuisance,"  Sybil 
answered,  gratefully.  "Good-bye,  Mr.  Brooks.  I  'm 
awfully  obliged  to  you,  and  will  talk  it  all  over  at 
the  Heneages'  to-night." 

The  two  girls  drove  off  in  Sybil's  brougham. 
Mary,  in  her  quiet  little  hat  and  plain  jacket,  seemed 
to  her  companion,  notwithstanding  her  air  of  refine- 
ment, to  be  a  denizen  of  some  other  world.  And 
between  the  two  there  was  from  the  first  a  certain 
amount  of  restraint. 

"  Do  you  give  up  your  whole  time  to  this  sort  of 
work  ?  "  Sybil  asked,  presently. 

"  I  do  now,"  Mary  answered.  "  I  had  other  em- 
ployment in  the  morning,  but  I  gave  that  up  last 
week.  I  am  a  salaried  official  of  the  Society  from 
last  Monday." 

Sybil  stole  a  swift  side-glance  at  her. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  think  that  it  must  be  a  very 
satisfactory  sort  of  life,"  she  said. 

Mary's  lips  flickered  into  the  faintest  of  smiles. 

"Really!" 

"  Oh,  I  mean  it,"  Sybil  continued.  "  Of  course, 
I  like  going  about  and  enjoying  myself,  but  it  is 
hideously  tiring.  And  then  after  a  year  or  two 
of  it  you  begin  to  realize  a  sort  of  sameness. 
Things  lose  their  flavour.  Then  you  have  odd  times 
of  serious  thought,  and  you  know  that  you  have 
just  been  going  round  and  round  in  a  circle,  that 
you  have  done  nothing  at  all  except  made  some 
show  at  enjoying  yourself.  Now  that  is  n't  very 
satisfactory,  is  it  ?  " 


LADY    SYBIL   LENDS   A   HAND        323 

"  No,"  Mary  answered,  "  I  don't  suppose  it  is." 

"  Now  you,"  Sybil  continued,  "  you  may  be  dull 
sometimes,  but  I  don't  suppose  you  are,  and  when- 
ever you  leave  off  and  think  —  well,  you  must  al- 
ways feel  that  your  time,  instead  of  having  been 
wasted,  has  been  well  and  wholesomely  spent.  I 
wish  I  could  have  that  feeling  sometimes." 

Despite  herself,  Mary  felt  that  she  would  have  to 
like  this  girl.  She  was  so  pretty,  so  natural,  and  so 
deeply  in  earnest. 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  n't,  is  there?" 
she  said,  more  kindly  than  she  had  as  yet  spoken.  "  I 
can  assure  you  that  I  very  often  have  the  blues,  and 
I  don't  consider  mine  by  any  means  the  happiest  sort 
of  life.  But,  of  course,  one  feels  differently  a  little 
if  one  has  tried  to  do  something  —  and  you  can  if 
you  like,  you  know." 

Sybil's  face  was  perfectly  brilliant  with  smiles. 

"  You  think  that  I  can  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  How 
nice  of  you.  I  don't  mind  how  hard  it  is  at  first. 
I  may  be  a  little  awkward,  but  I  don't  think  I  'in 
stupid." 

"  You  think  this  sort  of  work  is  the  sort  you  would 
like  best?" 

"  Why,  yes.  It  seems  so  practical,  you  know," 
Sybil  declared.  "  You  must  be  doing  good,  even  if 
some  of  the  people  don't  deserve  it.  I  don't  know 
about  the  washing,  but  I  don't  mind  it  a  bit.  Do 
you  think  it  will  be  a  busy  morning?  " 

"  I  am  sure  it  will,"  Mary  answered.  "  A  number 
of  the  people  are  getting  to  work  again  now,  since 
the  Tariff  Revision  Bill  passed,  and  they  keep  coming 
to  us  for  clothes  and  boots  and  things.  I  shall  give 


324  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

you  the  skirts  and  blouses  to  look  after  as  soon  as 
the  washing  is  over." 

"  Delightful,"  Sybil  exclaimed.  "  I  am  sure  I  can 
manage  that." 

"  And  on  no  account  must  you  give  any  money  to 
any  one,"  Mary  said.  "  That  is  most  important." 

"  I  will  remember,"  Sybil  promised.  .  .  . 

Two  hours  later  she  broke  in  upon  her  mother 
and  half-a-dozen  callers,  her  hat  obviously  put  on 
without  a  looking-glass,  her  face  flushed,  and 
her  hair  disordered,  and  smelling  strongly  of  dis- 
infectant. 

"  Some  tea,  mother,  please,"  she  exclaimed,  nod- 
ding to  her  visitors.  "  I  have  had  one  bun  for 
luncheon,  and  I  am  starving.  Can  you  imagine 
what  I  have  been  doing  ?  " 

No  one  could.     Every  one  tried. 

"Skating!" 

"Ping-pong!" 

"  Getting  theatre-tickets  at  the  theatre !  " 

She  waved  them  aside  with  scorn. 

"  I  have  washed  fourteen  children,"  she  declared, 
impressively,  "  fitted  at  least  a  dozen  women  with 
blouses  and  skirts,  and  three  with  boots.  Besides  a 
lot  of  odd  things." 

Lord  Arranmore  set  down  his  cup  with  a  little 
shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

"  You  have  joined  Brooks'  Society?  "  he  remarked. 

"  Yes !  I  have  been  down  at  the  Stepney  branch 
all  the  morning.  And  do  you  know,  we  're  disin- 
fected before  we  leave." 

"  A  most  necessary  precaution,  I  should  think," 
Lady  Caroom  exclaijned,  reaching  for  her  vinai- 


LADY    SYBIL   LENDS   A   HAND        325 

grette,  "  but  do  go  and  change  your  things  as 
quickly  as  you  can." 

"  I  must  eat,  mother,  or  starve,"  Sybil  declared. 
"  I  have  never  been  so  hungry." 

A  somewhat  ponderous  lady,  who  was  the  wife  of 
a  bishop,  felt  bound  to  express  her  disapprobation. 

"  Do  you  really  think,  dear,"  she  said,  "  that  you 
are  wise  in  encouraging  a  charity  which  is  not  in  any 
way  under  the  control  of  the  Church?  " 

"Oh,  isn't  it?"  Sybil  remarked.  "I'm  sure  I 
did  n't  know.  But  then  the  Church  has  n't  anything 
quite  like  this,  has  it?  Mr.  Brooks  is  so  clever  and 
original  in  all  his  ideas." 

The  disapprobation  of  the  bishop's  wife  became 
even  more  marked. 

"  The  very  fact,"  she  said,  "  that  the  Church  has 
not  thought  it  wise  to  institute  a  charitable  scheme 
upon  such  —  er  —  sweeping  lines,  is  a  proof,  to  my 
mind,  that  the  whole  thing  is  a  mistake.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  I  happen  to  know  that  the  bishop  strongly 
disapproves  of  Mr.  Brooks'  methods." 

"  That's  rather  a  pity,  isn't  it?"  Sybil  asked, 
sweetly.  "The  Society  has  done  so  much  good,  and 
in  so  short  a  time.  Every  one  admits  that." 

"  I  think  that  the  opinion  is  very  far  from  univer- 
sal," the  elder  lady  remarked,  firmly.  "  There 
appears  to  be  no  discrimination  shown  whatever 
in  the  distribution  of  relief.  The  deserving  and 
the  undeserving  are  all  classed  together.  I  could 
not  possibly  approve  of  any  charity  conducted 
upon  such  lines,  nor,  I  think,  could  any  good 
churchwoman." 

"  Mr.  Brooks  thinks/'  Sybil  remarked,  with  her 


326  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

mouth  full  of  cake,  "  that  it  is  the  undeserving  who 
are  in  the  greatest  need  of  help." 

"  One  could  believe  anything,"  the  bishop's  wife 
said  stiffly,  "  of  a  man  who  adopted  such  principles 
as  that.  And  although  I  do  not  as  a  rule  approve 
of  Mr.  Lavilette  or  his  paper,  I  am  seriously  in- 
clined to  agree  with  him  in  some  of  his  strictures 
upon  Mr.  Brooks." 

Sybil  laughed  softly. 

"  I  had  n't  read  them,"  she  remarked.  "  Mother 
does  n't  allow  the  man's  paper  in  the  house.  Do 
you  really  mean  that  you  have  it  at  the  palace,  Mrs. 
Endicott?" 

The  bishop's  wife  stiffened. 

"  Mr.  Lavilette  has  at  times  done  great  service  to 
the  community  by  his  exposure  of  frauds  of  all  sorts, 
especially  charitable  frauds,"  she  said.  "  It  is  pos- 
sible that  he  may  shortly  add  to  the  number." 

Lord  Arranmore  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"  Mr.  Lavilette,"  he  said,  "  has  also  had  to  pay 
damages  in  one  or  two  rather  expensive  libel  cases. 
And,  between  you  and  me,  Mrs.  Endicott,  if  our 
young  friend  Brooks  chose  to  move  in  the  matter, 
I  am  afraid  Mr.  Lavilette  might  have  to  sign  the 
largest  cheque  he  has  ever  signed  in  his  life  for  law 
costs." 

The  bishop's  wife  rose  with  an  icy  smile. 

"  I  seem  to  have  found  my  way  into  Mr.  Brooks' 
headquarters,"  she  remarked.  "  Lady  Caroom,  I 
shall  hope  to  see  you  at  the  palace  shortly." 

"  Poor  me,"  Sybil  exclaimed,  as  their  visitor 
departed.  "  She  only  asked  you,  mummy,  so 
as  to  exclude  me.  And  poor  Mr.  Brooks!  I 


LADY    SYBIL   LENDS   A   HAND        327 

wish  he  'd  been  here.  What  fun  we  should  have 
had." 

"  Oh,  these  Etrusians,"  Lord  Arranmore  mur- 
mured. "  I  thought  that  a  bishop  was  very  near 
heaven  indeed,  all  sanctity  and  charity,  and  that  a 
bishop's  wife  was  the  concentrated  essence  of  these 
things  —  plus  the  wings." 

Sybil  laughed  softly. 

"  Sanctity  and  charity,"  she  repeated,  "  and  Mrs. 
Endicott.  Oh!" 


THE   RESERVATION    OF    MARY    SCOTT 

THE  two  girls  were  travelling  westwards  on  the 
outside  of  an  omnibus,  in  itself  to  Sybil  a  most 
fascinating  mode  of  progression,  and  talking  a  good 
deal  spasmodically. 

"  It 's  really  too  bad  of  you,  Miss  Scott,"  Sybil 
declared.  "  Now  to-day,  if  you  will  come,  luncheon 
shall  be  served  in  my  own  room.  We  shall  be  quite 
cosy  and  quiet,  and  I  promise  you  that  you  shall  not 
see  a  soul  except  my  mother  —  whom  I  want  you  to 
know." 

Mary  shook  her  head. 

"  Don't  think  me  unkind,"  she  said.  "  I  really 
must  not  begin  visiting.  I  have  only  just  time  for  a 
hurried  lunch,  and  then  I  must  look  in  at  the  office 
and  get  down  to  Bermondsey." 

"  You  might  just  as  well  have  that  hurried  lunch 
with  me,"  Sybil  declared.  "  I  '11  send  you  anywhere 
you  like  afterwards  in  the  carriage." 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,"  Mary  answered,  "  but  my 
visiting  days  are  over.  I  am  not  a  social  person  at 
all,  you  know.  My  role  is  usefulness,  and  nothing 
else." 

"  You  are  too  young  to  talk  like  that,"  Sybil  said. 

"  I  am  ten  years  older  than  you  are,"  Mary  re- 
minded her. 


THE  RESERVATION  OF  MARY  SCOTT    329 

"  You  are  twenty-eight,"  Sybil  answered.  "  I 
think  it  is  beautiful  of  you  to  be  so  devoted  to  this 
work,  but  I  am  quite  sure  a  little  change  now  and 
then  is  wholesome." 

"  In  another  ten  years  I  may  think  of  it,"  Mary 
said.  "  Just  now  I  have  so  much  upon  my  hands  that 
I  dare  not  risk  even  the  slightest  distraction." 

"  In  another  ten  years,"  Sybil  said,  "  you  will  find 
it  more  difficult  to  enlarge  your  life  than  now.  I 
can't  believe  that  absorption  in  any  one  thing  is  nat- 
ural at  your  age." 

Mary  looked  steadfastly  down  at  the  horses. 

"  We  must  all  decide  what  is  best  for  ourselves," 
she  said.  "  I  have  not  your  disposition,  remember." 

"  Nothing  in  the  world,"  Sybil  said,  "  would  con- 
vince me  that  it  is  well  for  any  girl  of  your  age  to 
crowd  everything  out  of  her  life  except  work,  how- 
ever fine  and  useful  the  work  may  be.  Now  you  have 
admitted  that  except  for  Mr.  Brooks  and  the  people 
you  have  met  in  connection  with  his  work  you  have 
no  friends  in  London.  I  want  you  to  count  me  a 
friend,  Miss  Scott.  You  have  been  very  kind  to  me, 
and  made  everything  delightfully  easy.  Why  can't 
you  let  me  try  and  repay  it  a  little?  " 

"  I  have  only  done  my  duty,"  Mary  answered, 
quietly.  "  I  am  supposed  to  show  new  helpers  what 
to  do,  and  you  have  picked  it  up  very  quickly.  And 
as  for  the  rest  —  don't  think  me  unkind,  but  I  have 
no  room  for  friendships  in  my  life  just  now." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  Sybil  answered,  softly,  for  though 
Mary's  tone  had  been  cold  enough,  she  had  never- 
theless for  a  single  moment  lifted  the  curtain,  and 
Sybil  understood  in  some  vague  manner  that  there 


330  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

were  things  behind  into  which  she  had  no  right  to 
inquire. 

The  two  girls  parted  at  Trafalgar  Square,  and 
Sybil,  still  in  love  with  the  fresh  air,  turned  blithely 
westward  on  foot.  In  the  Haymarket  she  came  face 
to  face  with  Brooks. 

He  greeted  her  with  a  delightful  smile. 

"  You  alone,  and  walking,"  he  exclaimed.  "  What 
fortune.  May  I  come?" 

"  Of  course,"  she  answered.  "  You  know  where  I 
have  come  from,  I  suppose?" 

He  glanced  at  her  plain  clothes  and  realized  that 
the  odour  of  disinfectants  was  stronger  even  than  the 
perfume  of  the  handful  of  violets  which  she  had  just 
bought  from  a  woman  in  the  street. 

"  Stepney !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Quite  right.  I  had  a  card  last  evening,  and  was 
there  at  nine  o'clock  this  morning.  I  suppose  I  look 
a  perfect  wreck.  I  was  dancing  at  Hamilton  House 
at  three  o'clock." 

He  looked  towards  her  marvelling.  Her  cheeks 
were  prettily  flushed,  and  she  walked  with  the  de- 
lightful springiness  of  perfect  health. 

"  I  have  never  seen  you  look  better,"  he  answered. 

"  And  you,"  she  remarked,  glancing  in  amusement 
at  his  blue  serge  clothes,  which,  to  tell  the  truth, 
badly  needed  brushing.  "  What  are  you  doing  in  the 
West  End  at  this  time  in  the  morning?  " 

"  I  have  been  to  Drury  Lane,"  he  answered,  "  with 
some  surveyors  from  the  County  Council.  There  is  a 
whole  court  there  I  mean  to  get  condemned.  Then  I 
looked  in  at  our  new  place  there,  but  there  was  such  a 
howling  lot  of  children  that  I  was  glad  to  get  away. 
How  they  hate  being  washed !  " 


THE  RESERVATION  OF  MARY  SCOTT    331 

i 

"  Don't  they !  "  she  exclaimed,  laughing.  "  I  had 
the  dearest,  naughtiest  little  girl  this  morning,  and, 
do  you  know,  when  I  got  her  clean,  her  own  brothers 
and  sisters  did  n't  know  her  again.  I  'm  so  glad  I  've 
seen  you,  Mr.  Brooks.  I  want  to  ask  you  something." 

"Well?" 

"  About  Miss  Scott.  She  's  been  so  good  to  me, 
and  I  like  her  awfully.  We  've  just  come  up  on  the 
omnibus  together." 

"  She  has  been  my  right  hand  from  the  very  first," 
Brooks  said,  slowly.  "  I  really  don't  see  how  I  could 
have  done  without  her.  She  is  such  a  capital  organ- 
izer, too." 

"  I  know  all  that,"  Sybil  declared.  "  She  's  won- 
derful. I  don't  want,  of  course,  to  be  inquisitive," 
she  went  on,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  "  but  she 
interests  me  so  much,  and  it  was  only  this  morning 
that  I  felt  that  I  understood  her  a  little  bit." 

Brooks  nodded. 

"  She  is  a  very  reserved  young  woman,"  he 
said. 

"  Yes,  but  is  n't  there  some  reason  for  it  ?  "  Sybil 
continued,  eagerly.  "  I  have  asked  her  lots  of  times 
to  come  and  see  me.  She  admits  that  she  has  no 
friends  in  London,  and  I  wanted  to  have  her  come 
very  much.  You  see,  I  thought  she  would  be  sure  to 
like  mother,  and  if  she  does  n't  care  for  society,  we 
might  go  to  the  theatre  or  the  opera,  and  it  would  be 
a  little  change  for  her,  would  n't  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  very  kind  of  you  indeed,"  Brooks 
said. 

"  Well,  she  has  always  refused,  but  I  have  been 
very  persistent.  I  just  thought  that  she  was  perhaps 


332  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

a  little  shy,  or  found  it  difficult  to  break  through  her 
retirement  —  people  get  like  that,  you  know,  when 
they  live  alone.  So  this  morning  I  really  went  for 
her,  and  I  happened  to  be  looking,  and  I  saw  some- 
thing in  her  face  which  puzzled  me.  It  stopped  my 
asking  her  any  more.  There  is  something  under- 
neath her  quiet  manner  and  self-devotion.  She  has 
had  trouble  of  some  sort." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  A  girl  can  always  tell,"  Sybil  answered.  "  Her 
self-control  is  wonderful,  but  she  just  let  it  slip  —  for 
a  moment.  She  has  some  trouble,  I  am  sure.  I 
thought  perhaps  you  might  know.  Is  n't  there  any- 
thing we  could  do?  I  am  so  sorry  for  her." 

Brooks  was  very  grave,  and  his  face  was  curiously 
pale. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure?  "  he  asked. 

"Certain!" 

They  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  few  moments. 

"  You  have  asked  me  a  very  difficult  question,"  he 
said  at  last.  "  She  has  had  a  very  unhappy  sort  of 
life.  Her  father  and  mother  died  in  Canada  —  her 
father  shot  himself,  and  her  mother  died  of  the  shock. 
She  went  to  live  with  an  uncle  at  Medchester,  who 
was  good  to  her,  but  his  household  could  scarcely 
have  been  very  congenial.  I  met  her  there  —  she 
was  interested  in  charitable  works  then,  and  she  came 
to  London  to  try  and  attain  some  sort  of  indepen- 
dence. At  first  she  had  a  position  on  a  lady's  mag- 
azine which  took  up  her  mornings,  but  we  have  just 
induced  her  to  accept  a  small  salary  and  give  us  all 
her  time." 

"  That  seems  like  a  comprehensive  sketch  of  her 


THE  RESERVATION  OF  MARY  SCOTT    335 

life,"  Sybil  remarked,  thoughtfully,  "  but  are  you  sure 
—  that  you  have  not  missed  anything  out  ?  " 

"  So  far  as  I  know,"  he  answered,  gravely,  "  there' 
is  nothing  new  to  tell." 

They  walked  the  rest  of  the  way  to  Berkeley  Square 
in  absolute  silence. 

"  You  will  come  in  to  lunch  ?  "  she  said. 

He  looked  down  at  his  clothes. 

"  I  think  not,"  he  answered. 

"  We  are  almost  certain  to  be  alone,"  she  said. 
"  You  have  n't  seen  mother  for  a  long  time." 

He  suffered  himself  to  be  persuaded,  and  almost 
immediately  regretted  it.  For  there  were  a  dozen 
people  or  more  round  the  luncheon-table,  and  he 
caught  a  glimpse  of  more  than  one  frock  coat.  Fur- 
ther, from  the  dead  silence  which  followed  their  en- 
trance, it  seemed  more  than  probable  that  he  himself 
had  formed  the  subject  of  conversation. 

Lady  Caroom  greeted  him  as  kindly  as  ever,  and 
found  a  place  for  him  by  her  side.  Brooks,  whose 
self-possession  seldom  failed  him,  smiled  to  himself 
as  he  recognized  the  bishop,  who  was  his  vis-a-vis. 
Hennibul,  however,  from  a  little  lower  down  nodded 
to  him  pleasantly,  and  Lord  Arranmore  spoke  a  few- 
words  of  dry  greeting.  j 

"  Your  friend  Bullsom,"  he  remarked,  "  has  soort 
distinguished  himself.  He  made  quite  a  decent  speech 
the  other  night  on  the  Tariff  Bill." 

"  He  has  common-sense  and  assurance,"  Brooks 
answered.  "  He  ought  to  be  a  very  useful  man." 

Lord  Hennibul  leaned  forward  and  addressed 
Arranmore  with  blank  surprise  on  his  face. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  read  the  de- 


334  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

bates  in  the  House  of  Commons,  Arranmore?"  he 
exclaimed. 

Lord  Arranmore  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Since  the  degeneration  of  English  humour,"  he 
remarked,  "  one  must  go  somewhere  for  one's 
humour." 

"  I  should  try  the  House  of  Lords,  then,"  a  smart 
young  under-secretary  remarked  under  his  breath, 
with  a  glance  at  the  bishop.  "  There  is  more  hidden 
humour  in  the  unshaken  gravity  of  the  Episcopal 
Bench  than  in  both  Houses  of  Parliament  put 
together." 

"  They  take  themselves  so  seriously,"  Sybil  mur- 
mured. 

"  To  our  friend  there,"  the  younger  man  contin- 
ued, "  the  whole  world  's  a  congregation  —  and,  by 
Jove,  here  comes  the  text." 

For  the  bishop  had  deliberately  cleared  his  throat, 
and  leaning  forward  addressed  Brooks  across  the 
table. 

"  I  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
speaking  to  Mr.  Brooks  —  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  name,"  Brooks  answered  civilly,  won- 
dering what  avalanche  was  to  be  hurled  upon  him. 

"  Would  you  consider  a  question,  almost  a  personal 
question,  from  a  stranger  an  impertinence  —  when 
the  stranger  is  twice  your  age?  "  the  bishop  asked. 

"  By  no  means,"  Brooks  answered.  "  On  the  con- 
trary, I  should  be  delighted  to  answer  it  if  I  can." 

"  These  aspersions  which  Mr.  —  er  —  Lavilette 
has  been  making  so  freely  in  his  paper  against  your 
new  departure  —  I  mean  against  the  financial  man- 
agement of  it  —  do  you  propose  to  answer  them  ?  " 


THE  RESERVATION  OF  MARY  SCOTT    335 

"  Well,"  Brooks  said,  "  I  have  not  altogether  made 
up  my  mind.  Perhaps  your  lordship  would  permit 
me  —  since  you  have  mentioned  the  matter  —  to 
ask  for  your  advice." 

The  bishop  inclined  his  head.  This  was  by  no 
means  the  truculent  sort  of  young  man  he  had 
expected. 

"  You  are  very  welcome  to  it,  Mr.  Brooks,"  he  an- 
swered. "  I  should  advise  you  most  earnestly  to  at 
once  justify  yourself,  —  not  to  Mr.  Lavilette,  but  to 
the  readers  of  his  paper  whom  he  may  have  influ- 
enced by  his  statements.  One  charitable  institution, 
however  different  its  foundation,  or  its  method  of 
working,  or  its  ultimate  aims,  leans  largely  upon  an- 
other. Mr.  Lavilette's  attack,  if  unanswered,  may 
affect  the  public  mind  with  regard  to  many  other  or- 
ganizations which  are  grievously  in  need  of  support." 

"  If  that  is  your  opinion,"  Brooks  said,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  "  I  will  take  the  steps  you  sug- 
gest, and  set  myself  right  at  once." 

"If  you  can  do  that  thoroughly  and  clearly,"  the 
bishop  said,  "  you  will  render  a  service  to  the  whole 
community." 

"  There  should  not  be  much  difficulty,"  Brooks  re- 
marked, helping  himself  to  omelette.  "  I  never  ap- 
pealed for  subscriptions,  but  directly  they  began  to 
come  in  I  engaged  a  clerk  and  a  well-known  firm  of 
auditors,  through  whose  banking-account  all  the 
money  has  passed.  They  have  been  only  too  anxious 
to  take  the  matter  up." 

"  I  am  more  than  pleased  at  your  decision,  Mr. 
Brooks,"  the  bishop  said,  genially.  "  I  rejoice  at  it. 
You  will  pardon  my  remarking  that  you  seem  very 


336  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

young  to  have  inaugurated  and  to  carry  the  whole 
responsibility  of  a  work  of  such  magnitude." 

"The  work,"  Brooks  answered,  "has  largely  grown 
of  itself.  But  I  have  an  excellent  staff  of  helpers." 

"  The  sole  responsibility  though  rests  with  you." 

"  I  am  arranging  to  evade  it,"  Brooks  answered. 
"  I  am  going  to  adopt  commercial  methods  and  in- 
augurate a  Board  of  Directors." 

The  bishop  hesitated. 

"  Again,  Mr.  Brooks,"  he  said,  "  I  must  address  a 
suggestion  to  you  which  might  seem  to  require  an 
apology.  You  have  adopted  methods  and  expressed 
views  with  regard  to  your  scheme  which  are  in  them- 
selves scarcely  reconcilable  with  the  point  of  view 
with  which  we  churchmen  are  bound  to  regard  the 
same  question.  But  if  you  thought  it  worth  while 
before  finally  arranging  your  Board  to  discuss  the 
whole  subject  with  me,  it  would  give  me  the  greatest 
pleasure  to  have  you  visit  me  at  the  palace  at  any  time 
convenient  to  yourself." 

"  I  shall  consider  it  a  great  privilege,"  Brooks  an- 
swered, promptly,  "  and  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  avail 
myself  of  it." 

The  little  party  broke  up  soon  afterwards,  but 
Lady  Caroom  touched  Brooks  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Come  into  my  room  for  a  few  minutes,"  she 
said.  "  I  want  to  talk  with  you." 


CHAPTER   VII 

FATHER   AND   SON 

"  I  A  O  you  know,"  Lady  Caroom  said,  motioning 

L/  Brooks  to  a  seat  by  her  side,  "  that  I  feel  very 
middle-class  and  elderly  and  interfering.  For  I  am 
going  to  talk  to  you  about  Sybil." 

Brooks  was  a  little  paler  than  usual.  This  was  one 
of  those  rare  occasions  when  he  found  his  emotions 
very  hard  to  subdue.  And  it  had  come  so  suddenly. 

"  After  we  left  Enton,"  Lady  Caroom  said, 
thoughtfully,  "  I  noticed  a  distinct  change  in  her. 
The  first  evidences  of  it  were  in  her  treatment  of 
Sydney  Molyneux.  I  am  quite  sure  that  she  pur- 
posely precipitated  matters,  and  when  he  proposed 
refused  him  definitely." 

"  I.do  not  think,"  Brooks  found  voice  to  say,  "  that 
she  would  ever  have  married  Sydney  Molyneux." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  Lady  Caroom  admitted,  "  but  at 
any  rate  before  our  visit  to  Enton  she  was  quite  con- 
tent to  have  him  around  —  she  was  by  no  means 
eager  to  make  up  her  mind  definitely.  After  we  left 
she  seemed  to  deliberately  plan  to  dispose  of  him 
finally.  Since  then  —  I  am  talking  in  confidence, 
Kingston — she  has  refused  the  Duke  of  Atherstone." 

Brooks  was  silent.  His  self-control  was  being  se- 
verely tested.  His  heart  was  beating  like  a  sledge- 
hammer —  he  was  very  anxious  to  avoid  Lady 
Caroom' s  eyes. 

22 


338  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  Atherstone,"  she  said,  slowly,  "  is  quite  the  most 
eligible  bachelor  in  England,  and  he  is,  as  you  know, 
a  very  nice,  unaffected  boy.  There  is  only  one  pos- 
sible inference  for  me,  as  Sybil's  mother,  to  draw, 
and  that  is  that  she  cares,  or  is  beginning  to  think 
that  she  cares,  for  some  one  else." 

"  Some  one  else?  Do  you  know  whom?  "  Brooks 
asked. 

"  If  you  do  not  know,"  Lady  Caroom  answered,  "  I 
do  not." 

Brooks  threw  aside  all  attempt  at  disguise.  He 
looked  across  at  Lady  Caroom,  and  his  eyes  were  very 
bright. 

"I  have  never  believed,"  he  said,  "that  Sybil  would 
be  likely  to  care  for  me.  I  can  scarcely  believe  it 
now." 

Lady  Caroom  hesitated. 

"  In  any  case,"  she  said,  "  could  you  ask  her  to 
marry  you  ?  You  must  see  that  as  things  are  it  would 
be  impossible ! " 

"  Impossible !  "  he  muttered.     "  Impossible !  " 

"  Of  course,"  she  answered,  briskly.  "  You  must 
be  a  man  of  the  world  enough  to  know  that.  You 
could  not  ask  a  girl  in  Sybil's  position  to  share  a  bor- 
rowed name,  nor  would  the  other  conditions  permit 
of  your  marrying  her.  That  is  why  I  want  to  talk 
to  you." 

"Well?" 

"  Is  there  any  immediate  chance  of  your  recon- 
ciliation with  the  Marquis  of  Arranmore?" 

"  None,"  Brooks  answered. 

"  Well,  then,"  Lady  Caroom  said,  "  there  is  no  im- 
mediate chance  of  your  being  in  a  position  to  marry 


FATHER   AND   SON  339 

Sybil.  Don't  look  at  me  as  though  I  were  saying 
unkind  things.  I  am  not.  I  am  only  talking  com- 
mon-sense. What  is  your  income?" 

"  About  two  thousand  pounds,  but  some  of  that  — 
half,  perhaps  more  —  goes  to  the  Society." 

"  Exactly.  It  would  be  impossible  for  you  to 
marry  Sybil  on  the  whole  of  it,  or  twice  the  whole 
of  it." 

"  You  want  me  then,"  Brooks  said,  "  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  my  father.  Yet  you  —  you  yourself  will  not 
trust  him." 

"  I  have  not  expressed  any  wish  of  the  sort,"  Lady 
Caroom  said,  kindly.  "  I  only  wished  to  point  out 
that  as  things  are  you  were  not  in  a  position  to  ask 
Sybil  to  marry  you,  and  therefore  I  want  you  to 
keep  away  from  her.  I  mean  this  kindly  for  both  of 
you.  Of  course  if  Sybil  is  absolutely  in  earnest,  if 
the  matter  has  gone  too  far,  we  must  talk  it  all  over 
again  and  see  what  is  to  be  done.  But  I  want  you  to 
give  her  a  chance.  Keep  away  for  a  time.  Your 
father  may  live  for  twenty-five  years.  If  your  rela- 
tions with  him  all  that  time  continue  as  they  are  now, 
marriage  with  a  girl  brought  up  like  Sybil  would  be 
an  impossibility." 

Brooks  was  silent  for  several  moments.  Then  he 
looked  up  suddenly. 

"  Has  Lady  Sybil  said  anything  to  you  —  which 
led  you  to  speak  to  me  ?  " 

Lady  Caroom  shook  her  head. 

"  No.  She  is  very  young,  you  know.  Frankly,  I 
do  not  believe  that  she  knows  her  own  mind.  You 
have  not  spoken  to  her,  of  course  ?  " 

"No!" 


340  A   PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

"  And  you  will  not  ?  " 

"  I  suppose,"  Brooks  said,  "  that  I  must  not  think 
of  it." 

"  You  must  give  up  thinking  about  her,  of  course," 
Lady  Caroom  said,  "  until " 

"Until  what?" 

"  Until  you  can  ask  her  —  if  ever  you  do  ask  her 
—  to  marry  you  in  your  proper  name." 

Brooks  set  his  teeth  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
little  room. 

"  That,"  he  said,  "  may  be  never." 

•"Exactly,"  Lady  Caroom  agreed.  "That  is  why 
I  am  suggesting  that  you  do  not  see  her  so  often." 

He  stopped  opposite  her. 

"  Does  he  —  does  Lord  Arranmore  know  anything 
of  this?" 

.She  shook  her  head. 

*"  Not  from  me.  He  may  have  heard  whispers.  To 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  myself  have  been  asked  questions 
during  the  last  few  days.  You  have  been  seen  about 
a  good  deal  with  Sybil,  and  you  are  rather  a  mystery 
to  people.  That  is  why  I  felt  compelled  to  speak." 

He  nodded. 

"I  see!" 

"  You  must  not  blame  me,"  she  went  on,  softly. 
"  You  know,  Kingston,  that  I  like  you,  that  I  would 
give  you  Sybil  willingly  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances. I  don't  want  to  speak  to  her  if  I  can  help  it. 
And,  Kingston,  there  is  one  thing  more  I  must  say 
to  you.  It  is  on  my  mind.  It  keeps  me  awake  at 
night.  I  think  that  it  will  make  an  old  woman  of 
me  very  soon.  If  —  if  we  should  be  wrong?  " 

"  There  is  no  possibility  of  that,"  he  answered, 


FATHER   AND    SON  341 

sadly.  "  Lord  Arranmore  is  candour  itself,  even  in 
his  selfishness." 

"  His  face  haunts  me/'  she  murmured.  "  There  is 
something  so  terribly  impersonal,  so  terribly  sad 
about  it.  He  looks  on  at  everything,  he  joins  in 
nothing.  They  say  that  he  gambles,  but  he  never 
knows  whether  he  is  winning  or  losing.  He  gives 
entertainments  that  are  historical,  and  remains  as  cold 
as  ice  to  guests  whom  a  prince  would  be  glad  to  wel- 
come. His  horse  won  that  great  race  the  other  day, 
and  he  gave  up  his  place  on  the  stand,  just  before 
the  start,  to  a  little  girl,  and  never  even  troubled  to 
watch  the  race,  though  his  winnings  were  enormous. 
He  bought  the  Frivolity  Theatre,  produced  this  new 
farce,  and  has  never  been  seen  inside  the  place.  What 
does  it  mean,  Kingston?  There  must  be  suffering 
behind  all  this  —  terrible  suffering." 

"  It  is  a  law  of  retribution,"  Brooks  said,  coldly. 
"  He  has  made  other  people  suffer  all  his  life.  Now 
perhaps  his  turn  has  come.  He  spends  fortunes  try- 
ing to  amuse  himself  and  cannot.  Are  we  to  pity  him 
for  that?" 

"  I  have  heard  of  people,"  she  said,  looking  at  him 
intently,  "  who  are  too  proud  to  show  the  better  part 
of  themselves,  who  rather  than  court  pity  or  even 
sympathy  will  wear  a  mask  always,  will  hide  the  good 
that  is  in  them  and  parade  the  bad." 

"  You  love  him  still?"  he  said,  wonderingly. 

"  Kingston,  I  do.  If  I  were  a  brave  woman  I 
would  risk  everything.  Sometimes  when  I  see  him, 
like  a  Banquo  at  a  feast,  with  his  eyes  full  of  weari- 
ness and  the  mummy's  smile  upon  his  lips,  I  feel  that 
I  can  keep  away  no  longer.  Kingston,  let  us  go  to 


342  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

him,  you  and  I.  Let  us  see  if  we  can't  tear  off  the 
mask." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  He  would  laugh  at  us !  " 

"Will  you  try?" 

He  hesitated. 

"  No !  But,  Lady  Caroom,  you  have  no  such  debt 
of  bitterness  against  him  as  I  have.  I  cannot  advise 
you  —  I  would  not  dare.  But  if  there  is  a  spark  of 
soul  left  in  the  man,  such  love  as  yours  must  fan  it 
into  warmth.  If  you  have  the  courage  —  risk  it." 

Brooks  left  without  seeing  Sybil  again,  and  turned 
northward.  In  Pall  Mall  he  heard  his  name  called 
from  the  steps  of  one  of  the  great  clubs.  He  looked 
up  and  found  Lord  Arranmore  leisurely  descending. 

"  A  word  with  you,  Brooks,"  he  said,  coolly,  "  on 
a  matter  of  business.  Will  you  step  inside?" 

Brooks  hesitated.  It  was  beginning  to  rain,  and 
neither  of  them  had  umbrellas. 

"  As  you  will,"  he  answered.  "  I  have  an  appoint- 
ment in  half-an-hour." 

"  I  shall  not  detain  you  ten  minutes,"  Lord  Arran- 
more answered.  "  There  is  a  comfortable  s-trangers' 
room  here  where  we  can  chat.  Will  you  have  any- 
thing?" 

"  Nothing  to  drink,  thanks,"  Brooks  answered. 
"  A  cigarette,  if  you  are  going  to  smoke." 

Lord  Arranmore  pushed  his  cigarette-case  across 
the  small  round  table  which  stood  between  their  easy- 
chairs.  The  room  was  empty. 

"  You  will  find  these  tolerable.  I  promised  to  be 
brief,  did  I  not?  I  wished  to  speak  for  a  moment 


FATHER   AND    SON  343 

upon  a  subject  which  it  seems  to  me  might  require  a 
readjustment  of  our  financial  relations." 

Brooks  looked  up  puzzled  but  made  no  remark. 

"  I  refer  to  the  possibility  of  your  desiring  to 
marry.  Be  so  good  as  not  to  interrupt  me.  I  have 
seen  you  once  or  twice  with  Sybil  Caroom,  and  there 
has  been  a  whisper  —  but  after  all  that  is  of  no  con- 
sequence. The  name  of  the  young  lady  would  be  no 
concern  of  mine.  But  in  case  you  should  be  con- 
templating anything  of  the  sort,  I  thought  it  as  well 
that  you  should  know  what  the  usual  family  arrange- 
ments are." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  Brooks  said,  "  but  I  really  don't 
understand  what  you  mean  by  family  arrangements." 

"  No !  "  Lord  Arranmore  remarked,  softly.  "  Per- 
haps if  you  would  allow  me  to  explain  —  it  is  your 
own  time  which  is  limited,  you  know.  The  eldest 
son  of  our  family  comes  in,  as  you  have  been  told,  on 
his  twenty-first  birthday,  to  two  thousand  pounds  a 
year,  which  income  you  are  now  in  possession  of.  On 
his  marriage  that  is  increased  to  ten  thousand  a  year, 
with  the  possession  of  either  Enton  or  Mangohfred. 
In  the  present  case  you  could  take  your  choice,  as  I 
am  perfectly  indifferent  which  I  retain.  That  is  all 
I  wished  to  say.  I  thought  it  best  for  you  to  under- 
stand the  situation.  Mr.  Ascough  will,  at  any  time, 
put  it  into  legal  shape  for  you." 

"  You  speak  of  this  —  arrangement,"  Brooks  said, 
slowly,  "  as  though  it  were  a  corroboration  of  the 
settlement  upon  the  eldest  son.  This  scarcely  seems 
possible.  There  can  be  no  such  provision  legally." 

"  I  scarcely  see,"  Lord  Arranmore  said,  wearily, 
"  what  that  has  to  do  with  it.  The  ten  thousand 


344  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

pounds  a  year  is,  of  course,  not  a  legal  charge  upon 
the  estates.  But  from  time  immemorial  it  has  been 
the  amount  which  has  been  the  admitted  portion 
of  the  eldest  son  upon  marriage.  It  is  no  gift  from 
me.  It  is  the  income  due  to  Lord  Kingston  of  Ross. 
If  you  wish  for  any  future  explanation  I  must  really 
refer  you  to  Mr.  Ascough.  The  discussion  of  busi- 
ness details  is  by  no  means  a  favourite  occupation  of 
mine." 

Brooks  rose  to  his  feet.  His  eyes  were  fixed 
steadily,  almost  longingly  upon  Lord  Arranmore's. 
His  manner  was  not  wholly  free  from  nervousness. 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  Lord  Arran- 
more,"  he  said.  "  I  quite  understand  that  you  are 
making  me  the  offer  of  a  princely  settlement  out  of 
the  Arranmore  estates  to  which  I  have  no  manner  of 
claim.  It  is  not  possible  for  me  to  accept  it." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  A  great  clock  in 
the  corner  ticked  noisily.  A  faint  unusual  colour 
stole  into  Lord  Arranmore's  cheeks. 

"  Accept  it !  I  accord  you  no  favour,  I  offer  you 
no  gift.  The  allowance  is,  I  repeat,  one  which  every 
Lord  Kingston  has  drawn  upon  his  marriage.  Per- 
haps I  have  spoken  before  it  was  necessary.  You 
may  have  had  no  thoughts  of  anything  of  the  sort?  " 

Brooks  did  not  answer. 

"  I  have  noticed,"  Lord  Arranmore  continued  in 
measured  tones,  "  an  intimacy  between  you  and  Lady 
Sybil  Caroom,  which  suggested  the  idea  to  me.  I 
look  upon  Lady  Sybil  as  one  of  the  most  charming 
young  gentlewomen  of  our  time,  and  admirably  suited 
in  all  respects  to  the  position  of  the  future  Mar- 
chioness of  Arranmore.  I  presume  that  as  head  of 


FATHER   AND    SON  345 

the  family  I  am  within  my  rights  in  so  far  expressing 
my  opinion?  " 

"  Marriage,"  Brooks  said,  huskily,  "  is  not  possible 
for  me  at  present." 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  cannot  accept  this  money  from  you.  The  terms 
on  which  we  are  do  not  allow  of  it." 

There  was  an  ominous  glitter  in  Lord  Arranmore's 
eyes.  He,  too,  rose  to  his  feet,  and  remained  facing 
Brooks,  his  hand  upon  the  back  of  his  chair. 

"  Are  you  serious  ?    Do  you  mean  that  ?  " 

"  I  do !  "  Brooks  answered. 

Lord  Arranmore  pointed  to  the  door. 

"  Then  be  off,"  he  said,  a  note  of  passion  at  last 
quivering  in  his  tone.  "  Leave  this  room  at  once, 
and  let  me  see  as  little  of  you  in  the  future  as  possible. 
If  Sybil  cares  for  you,  God  help  her!  You  are  a 
damned  obstinate  young  prig,  sir.  Be  off!  " 

Brooks  walked  out  of  the  club  and  into  the  street, 
his  ears  tingling  and  his  cheeks  aflame.  The  world 
seemed  topsy-turvy.  It  was  long  indeed  before  he 
forgot  those  words,  which  seemed  to  come  to  him 
winged  with  a  wonderful  and  curious  force. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE  ADVICE   OF   MR.    BULLSOM 

AT  no  time  in  his  life  was  Brooks  conscious  of 
so  profound  a  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  with 
regard  to  himself,  his  work,  and  his  judgment,  as 
during  the  next  few  weeks.  His  friendship  with 
Mary  Scott,  which  had  been  a  more  pleasant  thing 
than  he  had  ever  realized,  seemed  to  him  to  be  prac- 
tically at  an  end,  he  had  received  a  stinging  rebuke 
from  the  one  man  in  the  world  whose  right  to  admin- 
ister it  he  would  have  vigorously  denied,  and  he  was 
forced  to  admit  to  himself  that  his  last  few  weeks 
had  been  spent  in  a  fool's  paradise,  into  which  he 
ought  never  to  have  ventured.  He  had  the  feeling 
of  having  been  pulled  up  sharply  in  the  midst  of 
a  very  delightful  interlude  —  and  the  whole  thing 
seemed  to  him  to  come  as  a  warning  against  any 
deviation  whatsoever  from  the  life  which  he  had 
marked  out  for  himself.  So,  after  a  day  of  indeci- 
sion and  nerveless  hesitation,  he  turned  back  once 
more  to  his  work.  Here,  at  any  rate,  he  could  find 
absorption. 

He  formed  his  Board  —  without  figure-heads, 
wholly  of  workers.  There  was  scarcely  a  name 
which  any  one  had  ever  heard  of  before.  He  had 
his  interview  with  the  bishop,  who  was  shocked  at 
his  views,  and  publicly  pronounced  his  enterprise 


THE   ADVICE   OF   MR.  BULLSOM       347 

harmful  and  pauperizing,  and  Ferity,  with  the  names 
of  the  Board  as  a  new  weapon,  came  for  him  more 
vehemently  than  ever.  Brooks,  at  last  goaded  into 
action,  sent  the  paper  to  his  solicitors  and  went 
down  to  Medchester  to  attend  a  dinner  given  to 
Mr.  Bullsom. 

It  was  at  Medchester  that  he  recovered  his  spirits. 
He  knew  the  place  so  well  that  it  was  easy  for  him 
to  gauge  and  appreciate  the  altered  state  of  affairs 
there.  The  centre  of  the  town  was  swept  clean  at 
last  of  those  throngs  of  weary-faced  men  and  youths 
looking  for  a  job,  the  factories  were  running  full 
time — there  seemed  to  his  fancy  to  be  even  an  added 
briskness  in  the  faces  and  the  footsteps  of  the  hurry- 
ing crowds  of  people.  Later  on  at  the  public  dinner 
which  he  had  come  down  to  attend,  he  was  amply 
assured  as  to  the  sudden  wave  of  prosperity  which 
was  passing  over  the  whole  country.  Mr.  Bullsom, 
with  an  immense  expanse  of  white  shirt,  a  white 
waistcoat  and  a  scarlet  camellia  in  his  button-hole, 
beamed  and  oozed  amiability  upon  every  one.  Brooks 
he  grasped  by  both  hands  with  a  full  return  to  his 
old  cordiality,  indulgence  in  which  he  had  rather 
avoided  since  he  had  been  aware  of  the  social  gulf 
between  them. 

"  Brooks,"  he  said,  "  I  owe  this  to  you.  It  was 
your  suggestion.  And  I  don't  think  it 's  turned  out 
so  badly,  eh  ?  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  think  that  you  have  found  your  proper  sphere," 
Brooks  answered,  smiling.  "  I  can't  think  why  you 
ever  needed  me  to  suggest  it  to  you." 

"  My  boy,  I  can't  either,"  Mr.  Bullsom  declared. 
"  This  is  one  of  the  proudest  nights  of  my  life.  Do 


348  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS    - 

you  know  what  we  've  done  up  there  at  Westmin- 
ster, eh  ?  We  Ve  given  this  old  country  a  new  lease 
of  life.  How  they  were  all  laughing  at  us  up  their 
sleeve,  eh!  Germans,  and  Frenchmen,  and  Yankees. 
It 's  a  horse  of  another  colour  now.  John  Bull  has 
found  out  how  to  protect  himself.  And,  Brooks,  my 
boy,  it 's  been  mentioned  to-night,  and  I  'm  a  proud 
man  when  I  think  of  it.  There  were  others  who  did 
the  showy  part  of  the  work,  of  course,  the  speech- 
making  and  the  bill-framing  and  all  that,  but  I  was 
the  first  man  to  set  the  Protection  snowball  rolling. 
It  was  n't  much  I  had  to  say,  but  I  said  it.  A  glass 
of  wine  with  you,  Sir  Henry?  With  pleasure,  sir!  " 

"  I  wonder  how  long  it  will  last,"  Brooks'  neigh- 
bour remarked,  cynically.  "  The  manufacturers  are 
like  a  lot  of  children  with  a  new  toy.  What  about 
the  Colonies?  What  are  they  going  to  say  about 
it?" 

"  We  have  no  Colonies,"  Brooks  answered,  smil- 
ing. "  You  are  only  half  an  Imperialist.  Don't 
you  know  that  they  have  been  incorporated  in  the 
British  Empire?  " 

"  Hope  they  '11  like  it,"  his  neighbour  remarked, 
sardonically.  "  Plenty  of  glory  and  a  good  price 
to  pay  for  it.  What  licks  me  is  that  every  one  seems 
to  imagine  that  this  Tariff  Bill  is  going  to  give  the 
working-classes  a  leg-up.  To  my  mind  it 's  the  capi- 
talist who  's  going  to  score  by  it." 

"  The  capitalist  manufacturer,"  Brooks  answered. 
"  But  after  all  you  can't  under  our  present  conditions 
dissociate  capital  and  labour.  The  benefit  of  one  will 
be  the  benefit  of  the  other.  No  food  stuffs  are  taxed, 
you  know." 


THE   ADVICE   OF   MR.    BULLSOM       349 

His  neighbour  grunted. 

"  Pity  Cobden's  ghost  can't  come  and  listen  to  the 
rot  those  fellows  are  talking,"  he  remarked.  "  We 
shall  see  in  a  dozen  years  how  the  thing  works." 

The  dinner  ended  with  a  firework  of  speeches,  and 
an  ovation  to  their  popular  townsman  and  mem- 
ber, which  left  Mr.  Bullsom  very  red  in  the  face 
and  a  little  watery  about  the  eyes.  Brooks  and  he 
drove  off  together  afterwards,  and  Mr.  Bullsom 
occupied  the  first  five  minutes  or  so  of  the  jour- 
ney with  a  vigorous  mopping  of  his  cheeks  and 
forehead. 

"  A  great  night,  Brooks,"  he  exclaimed,  faintly. 
"  A  night  to  remember.  Don't  mind  admitting  that 
I  'm  more  than  a  bit  exhausted  though.  Phew !  " 

Brooks  laughed,  and  leaning  forward  looked  out 
of  the  windows  of  the  carriage. 

"  Are  we  going  in  the  right  direction?  "  he  asked. 
"  This  is  n't  the  way  to  '  Homelands.'  " 

Mr.  Bullsom  smiled. 

"  Little  surprise  for  you,  Brooks ! "  he  remarked. 
"  We  found  the  sort  of  place  the  girls  were  hanker- 
ing after,  to  let  furnished,  and  we  've  took  it  for  a 
year.  We  moved  in  a  fortnight  ago." 

"  Do  I  know  the  house?  "  Brooks  asked. 

"  It 's  Woton  Hall,"  Mr.  Bullsom  remarked,  im- 
pressively. "  Nice  old  place.  Dare  say  you  remem- 
ber it." 

"  Remember  it !  Of  course  I  do,"  Brooks  an- 
swered. "How  do  the  young  ladies  like  it?" 

Mr.  Bullsom  laid  hold  of  the  strap  of  the  carriage. 
The  road  was  rough,  the  horses  were  fresh,  and  Miv 
Bullsom' s  head  had  felt  steadier. 


350  A  PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  Well/'  Mr.  Bullsom  said,  "  you  'd  think  to  hear 
'em  we  'd  stepped  straight  into  heaven.  We  're  close 
to  the  barracks,  you  know,  and  I  'm  blest  if  half  the 
officers  have  n't  called  already.  They  drop  in  to 
luncheon,  or  dinner,  or  whatever  's  going  on,  in  the 
most  friendly  way,  just  as  they  used  to,  you  know, 
when  Sir  Henry  lived  there,  him  as  took  wine  with 
me,  you  remember.  Lord,  you  should  hear  Selina 
on  the  military.  Can't  say  I  take  to  'em  much  my- 
self. I  '11  bet  there  '11  be  one  or  two  of  them  hang- 
ing about  the  place  to-night.  Phew !  " 

Mr.  Bullsom  mopped  his  forehead  again.  The  car- 
riage had  turned  in  at  the  drive,  and  he  glanced 
towards  Brooks  a  little  uneasily. 

"  Do  I  look  —  as  though  I  'd  been  going  it  a  bit?" 
he  asked.  "  Since  Selina 's  got  these  band-box  young 
men  hanging  around  she 's  so  mighty  particular." 

Brooks  leaned  forward  and  rescued  Mr.  Bullsom's 
tie  from  underneath  his  ear. 

"  You  're  all  right,"  he  said,  reassuringly.  "  You 
must  n't  let  the  girls  bully  you,  you  know." 

Mr.  Bullsom  sat  bolt  upright. 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Brooks,"  he  declared.  "  I 
will  not.  But  we  took  on  the  servants  here  as  well, 
and  they  're  a  bit  strange  to  me.  After  all,  though, 
I  'm  the  boss.  I  '11  let  'em  know  it,  too." 

A  footman  threw  open  the  door  and  took  Brooks' 
dressing-case.  A  butler,  hurrying  up  from  the  back- 
ground, ushered  them  into  the  drawing-room.  Mr. 
Bullsom  pulled  down  his  waistcoat  and  marched  in, 
whistling  softly  a  popular  tune.  Selina  and  Louise, 
in  elaborate  evening  gowns,  were  playing  bridge  with 
two  young  men. 


THE   ADVICE   OF  MR.   BULLSOM      351 

Seliha  rose  and  held  out  her  hand  to  Brooks  a 
little  languidly. 

"  So  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Brooks,"  she  declared. 
"  Let  me  introduce  Mr.  Suppeton,  Captain  Meyton !  " 

The  two  young  men  were  good  enough  to  acknowl- 
edge the  introduction,  and  Brooks  shook  hands  with 
Louise.  Selina  was  surveying  her  father  with  up- 
lifted eyebrows. 

"Why,  father,  where  on  earth  have  you  been?" 
she  exclaimed.  "  I  never  saw  anybody  such  a 
sight.  Your  shirt  is  like  a  rag,  and  your  collar 
too." 

"  Never  you  mind  me,  Selina,"  Mr.  Bullsom  an- 
swered, firmly.  "  As  to  where  I  've  been,  you  know 
quite  well.  Political  dinners  may  be  bad  for  your 
linen,  and  there  may  be  more  healths  drunk  than  is 
altogether  wise,  but  a  Member  of  Parliament  has  to 
take  things  as  he  finds  'em.  Don't  let  us  interrupt 
your  game.  Brooks  and  I  are  going  to  have  a  game 
at  billiards." 

One  of  the  young  men  laid  down  his  cards. 

"  Can't  we  join  you  ?  "  he  suggested.  "  We  might 
have  a  game  of  pool,  if  it  is  n't  too  late." 

"  You  are  soon  tired  of  bridge,"  Selina  remarked, 
reproachfully.  "  Very  well,  we  will  all  go  into  the 
billiard-room." 

The  men  played  a  four-handed  game.  Between 
the  shots  Selina  talked  to  Brooks. 

"Were  you  surprised?"  she  asked.  "Had  you 
heard?" 

"  Not  a  word.     I  was  astonished,"  he  answered. 

"  You  had  n't  seen  it  in  the  papers  either  ?  Most 
of  them  mentioned  it  —  in  the  county  notes." 


352  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  I  so  seldom  read  the  newspapers,"  he  said.  "You 
like  it,  of  course?  " 

Selina  was  bereft  of  words. 

"  How  we  ever  existed  in  that  hateful  suburb,"  she 
whispered  under  her  breath.  "  And  the  people  round 
here  too  are  so  sociable.  Papa  being  a  member  makes 
a  difference,  of  course.  Then  the  barracks  —  is  n't 
it  delightful  having  them  so  close?  There  is  always 
something  going  on.  A  cricket  match  to-morrow,  I 
believe.  Louise  and  I  are  going  to  play.  Mrs. 
Malevey  —  she  's  the  Colonel's  wife,  you  know  — 
persuaded  us  into  it." 

"And  your  mother?"  Brooks  asked  a  minute  or 
two  later. 

Selina  tossed  her  head. 

"  Mother  is  so  foolish,"  she  declared.  "She  misses 
the  sound  of  the  trams,  and  she  actually  calls  the 
place  dead  alive,  because  she  can't  sit  at  the  windows 
and  see  the  tradesmen's  carts  and  her  neighbours  go 
by.  Is  n't  it  ridiculous  ?  " 

Brooks  hesitated. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  he  answered.  "  Your  mother  can 
have  her  friends  out  here,  though.  It  really  is  only 
a  short  drive  to  Medchester." 

"  She  won't  have  them  oftener  than  I  can  help," 
Selina  declared,  doggedly.  "  Old  Mrs.  Mason  called 
the  other  day  when  Captain  Meyton  and  Mrs.  Male- 
vey  were  here.  It  was  most  awkward.  But  I  don't 
know  why  I  tell  you  all  these  things,"  she  declared, 
abruptly.  "  Somehow  I  always  feel  that  you  are 
quite  an  old  friend." 

Selina' s  languishing  glance  was  intercepted  by  one 
of  her  admirers  from  the  barracks,  as  she  had  in- 


THE   ADVICE   OF   MR.    BULLSOM       353 

tended  it  to  be.  Brooks  went  off  to  play  his  shot 
and  returned  smiling. 

"I  am  only  too  happy  that  you  should  feel 
so,"  he  declared.  "  Your  father  was  very  kind 
to  me." 

"  Is  n't  it  almost  a  pity  that  you  did  n't  stay  in 
Medchester,  Mr.  Brooks  ?  "  Selina  remarked,  with  a 
faint  note  of  patronage  in  her  tone.  "  Papa  is  so 
much  more  influential  now,  you  know,  and  he  was 
always  so  fond  of  you." 

"It  is  rather  a  pity,"  Brooks  remarked,  with 
twinkling  eyes.  "  One  can't  foresee  these  things, 
you  know." 

Selina  felt  it  time  to  bestow  her  attention  else- 
where, and  the  game  soon  came  to  an  end.  The 
girls  glanced  at  the  clock  and  reluctantly  withdrew. 

"  Remember,  Miss  Bullsom,  that  we  are  relying 
upon  you  to-morrow,"  the  younger  of  the  two  offi- 
cers remarked,  as  he  opened  the  door.  "  Two  o'clock 
sharp  —  but  you  lunch  with  Mrs.  Malevey  first,  don't 
you?" 

"  We  shan't  forget,"  Selina  assured  him,  graciously. 
"  Good-night." 

The  two  young  men  left  soon  afterwards.  Mr. 
Bullsom  mixed  himself  a  whisky-and-soda,  and  stood 
for  a  few  minutes  on  the  hearthrug  before  retiring. 

"  You  're  not  up  to  the  mark,  Brooks,  my  boy," 
he  said,  kindly. 

Brooks  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  am  about  as  usual,"  he  answered. 

Mr.  Bullsom  set  down  his  glass. 

"  Look  here,  Brooks,"  he  said,  "  you  Ve  given  me 
many  a  useful  piece  of  advice,  even  when  you  used 

23 


354  A   PRINCE  OF   SINNERS 

to  charge  me  six  and  eightpence  for  it.  I  'm  going 
to  turn  the  tables.  One  does  n't  need  to  look  at  you 
twice  to  see  that  things  aren't  going  altogether  as 
they  should  do  with  you.  See  here!  Are  you  sure 
that  you  're  not  cutting  off  your  nose  to  spite  your 
face,  eh?" 

"  Perhaps  I  am,"  Brooks  answered.  "  But  it  is 
too  late  to  draw  back  now." 

"  It  is  never  too  late,"  Mr.  Bullsom  declared, 
vigorously.  "  I  've  no  fancy  for  weathercocks,  but 
I  have  n't  a  ha'porth  of  respect  for  a  man  who 
ain't  smart  enough  to  own  up  when  he 's  made  a 
mistake,  and  who  is  n't  willing  to  start  again  on  a 
fresh  page.  You  take  my  advice,  Brooks.  Be  rec- 
onciled with  your  father,  and  let  'em  all  know  who 
you  are.  I  've  seen  a  bit  of  Lord  Arranmore,  and 
I  '11  stake  my  last  shilling  that  he  's  not  a  bad  'un  at 
heart.  You  make  it  up  with  him,  Brooks.  Come, 
that 's  a  straight  tip,  and  it 's  a  good  one." 

Brooks  threw  away  his  cigarette  and  held  out  his 
hand. 

"  It  is  very  good  advice,  Mr.  Bullsom,"  he  said, 
"  under  any  ordinary  circumstances.  I  wish  I  could 
take  it.  Good-night." 

Mr.  Bullsom  grasped  his  hand. 

"  You  're  not  offended,  my  boy  ?  "  he  asked,  anx- 
iously. 

"  Not  I,"  Brooks  answered,  heartily.  "  I  'm  not 
such  an  idiot." 

"  I  don't  want  to  take  any  liberties,"  Bullsom  said, 
"  and  I  'm  afraid  I  forget  sometimes  who  you  are, 
but  that 's  your  fault,  seeing  that  you  will  call  your- 
self only  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks  when  you  're  by 


THE   ADVICE   OF   MR.    BULLSOM       355 

rights  a  lord.  But  if  you  were  the  Prince  of  Wales 
I  'd  still  say  that  my  advice  was  good.  Forgive  your 
father  anything  you  Ve  got  against  him,  and  start 
afresh." 

"  Well,  I  '11  think  about  it,"  Brooks  promised. 


CHAPTER   IX 

A   QUESTION   AND   AN   ANSWER 

BROOKS  returned  to  London  to  find  the  annual 
exodus  already  commenced.  Lady  Caroom  and 
Sybil  had  left  for  Homburg.  Lord  Arranmore  was 
yachting  in  the  Channel.  Brooks  settled  down  to 
work,  and  found  it  a  little  wearisome. 

He  saw  nothing  of  Mary  Scott,  whose  duties  now 
brought  her  seldom  to  the  head  office.  He  began  to 
think  that  she  was  avoiding  him,  and  there  came  upon 
him  about  this  time  a  sense  of  loneliness  to  which  he 
was  sometimes  subject.  He  fought  it  with  hard  work 
—  early  and  late,  till  the  colour  left  his  cheeks  and 
black  lines  bordered  his  eyes.  They  pressed  him 
to  take  a  holiday,  but  he  steadily  declined.  Mr. 
Bullsom  wrote  begging  him  to  spend  a  week-end  at 
least  at  Woton  Hall.  He  refused  this  and  all  other 
invitations. 

One  day  he  took  up  a  newspaper  which  was  chiefly 
concerned  with  the  doings  of  fashionable  people,  and 
Lady  Caroom's  name  at  once  caught  his  eye.  He 
read  that  her  beautiful  daughter  Lady  Sybil  was  quite 
the  belle  of  Homburg,  that  the  Duke  of  Atherstone 
was  in  constant  attendance,  that  an  interesting  an- 
nouncement might  at  any  moment  be  made.  He 
threw  aside  the  paper  and  looked  thoughtfully  out 
into  the  stuffy  little  street,  where  even  at  night  the 


A   QUESTION   AND   AN   ANSWER      357 

air  seemed  stifling  and  unwholesome.  After  all,  was 
he  making  the  best  of  his  life?  He  had  started  a 
great  work.  Hundreds  and  thousands  of  his  fellow- 
creatures  would  be  the  better  for  it.  So  far  all  was 
well  enough.  But  personally  —  was  this  entire  self- 
abnegation  necessary  ?  —  was  he  fulfilling  his  duty 
to  himself?  was  he  not  rather  sacrificing  his  future 
to  a  prejudice  —  an  idea?  In  any  case  he  knew  that 
it  was  too  late  to  retract.  He  had  renounced  his 
proper  position  in  life,  it  was  too  late  for  him  now  to 
claim  it.  And  there  had  gone  with  it  —  Sybil.  After 
all,  why  should  he  arrogate  to  himself  judgment? 
The  sins  of  his  father  were  not  his  concern.  It  was 
chiefly  he  who  suffered  by  his  present  attitude,  yet 
he  had  chosen  it  deliberately.  He  could  not  draw 
back.  He  had  cut  himself  off  from  her  world  —  he 
saw  now  the  folly  of  his  ever  for  a  moment  having 
been  drawn  into  it.  It  must  be  a  chapter  closed. 

The  weeks  passed  on,  and  his  loneliness  grew. 
One  day  the  opening  of  still  another  branch  brought 
him  for  a  moment  into  contact  with  Mary  Scott.  She 
too  was  looking  pale,  but  her  manner  was  bright,  even 
animated.  She  seemed  to  feel  none  of  the  dejection 
which  had  stolen  away  from  him  the  whole  flavour 
of  life.  Her  light  easy  laugh  and  cheerful  conversa- 
tion were  like  a  tonic  to  him.  He  remembered  those 
days  at  Medchester.  After  all,  she  was  the  first 
woman  whom  he  had  ever  looked  upon  as  a  comrade, 
whom  he  had  ever  taken  out  of  her  sex  and  considered 
singly. 

She  spoke  of  his  ill-looks  kindly  and  with  some 
apprehension. 

"  I  am  all  right,"  he  assured  her,  "  but  a  little  dull. 


358  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

Take  pity  on  me  and  come  out  to  dinner  one  night 
this  week." 

They  dined  in  the  annexe  of  a  fashionable  restau- 
rant practically  out  of  doors  —  a  cool  green  lawn  for 
a  carpet  and  a  fountain  playing  close  at  hand.  Mary 
wore  a  white  dinner-gown,  gossamer-like  and  airy. 
Her  rich  brown  hair  was  tastefully  arranged,  her 
voice  had  never  seemed  to  him  so  soft  and  pleasant. 
All  around  was  the  hum  of  cheerful  conversation.  A 
little  world  of  people  seemed  to  be  there  whose  philos- 
ophy of  life  after  all  was  surely  the  only  true  one, 
where  hearts  were  light  with  the  joy  of  the  moment. 
The  dinner  was  carefully  served,  the  wine,  which  in 
his  solitude  he  had  neglected,  stole  through  his  veins 
with  a  pleasant  warmth.  Brooks  felt  his  nerves  relax, 
the  light  came  back  to  his  eyes  and  the  colour  to  his 
cheeks.  Their  conversation  grew  brighter  —  almost 
gay.  They  both  carefully  avoided  all  mention  of  their 
work  —  it  was  a  holiday.  The  burden  of  his  too  care- 
fully thought  out  life  seemed  to  pass  away.  Brooks 
felt  that  his  youth  was  coming  to  him  a  little  late,  but 
with  delicious  freshness. 

He  smoked  a  cigarette  and  sipped  his  coffee,  glanc- 
ing every  now  and  then  at  his  companion  with  ap- 
proving eyes.  For  Mary,  whose  dress  was  so  sel- 
dom a  matter  of  moment  to  her,  chanced  to  look  her 
best  that  night.  The  delicate  pallor  of  her  cheeks 
under  the  rich  tone  of  her  hair  seemed  quite  apart 
from  any  suggestion  of  ill-health,  her  eyes  were 
wonderfully  full  and  soft,  a  quaint  pearl  orna- 
ment hung  by  a  little  gold  chain  from  her  slen- 
der, graceful  neck.  A  sort  of  dreamy  content  came 
over  Brooks.  After  all,  why  should  he  throw  him- 


A   QUESTION   AND   AN  ANSWER      359 

self  in  despair  against  the  gates  of  that  other  world, 
outside  which  he  himself  had  elected  to  dwell? 
It  was  only  madness  for  him  to  think  of  Sybil. 
While  Lord  Arranmore  lived  he  must  remain  King- 
ston Brooks  —  and  for  Kingston  Brooks  it  seemed 
that  even  friendship  with  her  was  forbidden.  He 
could  live  down  those  memories.  They  were  far 
better  crushed.  He  thought  of  that  moment  in 
Mary's  sitting-room,  that  one  moment  of  her  self- 
betrayal,  and  his  heart  beat  with  an  unaccustomed 
force.  Why  not  rob  her  of  the  bitterness  of  that 
memory?  He  looked  at  the  white  hand  resting  for 
a  moment  on  the  table  so  close  to  his,  and  a  sudden 
impulse  came  over  him  to  snatch  it  up,  to  feel  his 
loneliness  fade  away  for  ever  before  the  new  light  in 
her  face. 

"  Let  us  go  and  sit  on  the  other  side  of  the  lawn," 
he  said,  leaning  over  towards  her.  "  We  can  hear  the 
music  better." 

They  found  a  quiet  seat  where  the  music  from  the 
main  restaurant  reached  them,  curiously  mingled  with 
the  jingling  of  cab  bells  from  Piccadilly.  Brooks 
leaned  over  and  took  her  hand. 

"  Mary,"  he  said,  "  will  you  marry  me?  " 

She  looked  at  him  as  though  expecting  to  find  in  his 
face  some  vague  sign  of  madness,  some  clue  to  words 
which  seemed  to  her  wholly  incomprehensible.  But 
he  had  all  the  appearance  of  being  in  earnest.  His 
eyes  were  serious,  his  fingers  had  tightened  over  hers. 
She  drew  a  little  away,  and  every  vestige  of  colour  had 
vanished  from  her  cheeks. 

"  Marry  you?  "  she  exclaimed. 

He  bent  over  her,  and  he  laughed  softly  in  the 


360  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

darkness.  A  mad  impulse  was  upon  him  to  kiss  her, 
but  he  resisted  it. 

"  Why  not?    Does  it  sound  so  dreadful?  " 

She  drew  her  fingers  away  slowly  but  with  deter- 
mination. 

"  I  had  hoped,"  she  said,  "  that  you  would  have 
spared  me  this." 

"  Spared  you !  "  he  repeated.  "  I  do  not  under- 
stand. Spared  you ! " 

She  looked  at  him  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  thank  you,"  she  said, 
bitterly.  "  Only  I  do  not.  I  cannot.  You  were 
kinder  when  you  joined  with  me  and  helped  me 
to  ignore  —  that  hateful  moment.  That  was  much 
kinder." 

"  Upon  my  honour,  Mary,"  Brooks  declared,  ear- 
nestly, "  I  do  not  understand  you.  I  have  not  the 
least  idea  what  you  mean." 

She  looked  at  him  incredulously. 

"  You  have  asked  me  to  marry  you,"  she  said. 
"Why?" 

"  Because  I  care  for  you." 

"Care  for  me?  Does  that  mean  that  you  —  love 
me?" 

"  Yes." 

She  noted  very  well  that  moment's  hesitation. 

"  That  is  not  true,"  she  declared.  "  Oh,  I  know. 
You  ask  me  out  of  pity  —  because  you  cannot  forget. 
I  suppose  you  think  it  kindness.  I  don't!  It  is 
hateful!" 

A  light  broke  in  upon  him.  He  tried  once  more  to 
take  her  hand,  but  she  withheld  it. 

"  I   only  half  understand  you,   Mary,"   he  said, 


A   QUESTION   AND   AN   ANSWER      361 

earnestly,  "  but  I  can  assure  you  that  you  are  mis- 
taken. As  to  asking  you  out  of  pity  —  that  is  ridicu- 
lous. I  want  you  to  be  my  wife.  We  care  for  the 
same  things  —  we  can  help  one  another  —  and  I  seem 
to  have  been  very  lonely  lately." 

"  And  you  think,"  Mary  said,  with  a  curious  side- 
glance  at  him,  "  that  I  should  cure  your  loneliness. 
Thank  you.  I  am  very  happy  as  I  am.  Please  forget 
everything  you  have  said,  and  let  us  go." 

Brooks  was  a  little  bewildered  —  and  manlike  a 
little  more  in  earnest. 

"  For  some  reason  or  other,"  he  said,  "  you  seem 
disinclined  to  take  me  seriously.  I  cannot  understand 
you,  Mary.  At  any  rate  you  must  answer  me  differ- 
ently. I  want  you  to  be  my  wife.  I  am  fond  of  you 
—  you  know  that  —  and  I  will  do  my  best  to  make 
you  happy." 

"  Thank  you,"  Mary  said,  hardly.  "  I  am  sorry, 
but  I  must  decline  your  offer  —  absolutely.  Now, 
let  us  go,  shall  we?  " 

She  would  have  risen,  but  he  laid  his  hand  firmly 
upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Not  till  I  have  some  sort  of  explanation,"  he  said. 
"  Is  it  that  you  do  not  care  for  me,  Mary?  " 

She  turned  round  upon  him  with  colour  enough  in 
her  cheeks  and  a  strange  angry  light  burning  in  her 
eyes. 

"  You  might  have  spared  me  that  also,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  You  are  determined  to  humiliate  me,  to 
make  me  remember  that  hateful  afternoon  in  my 
rooms  —  oh,  I  can  say  it  if  I  like  —  when  I  kissed 
you.  I  knew  then  that  sooner  or  later  you  would 
make  up  your  mind  that  it  was  your  duty  to  ask 


362  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

me  to  marry  you.  Only  you  might  have  done  it  by 
letter.  It  would  have  been  kinder.  Never  mind. 
You  have  purged  your  conscience,  and  you  have  got 
your  answer.  Now  let  us  go." 

Brooks  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  amazed  — 
beside  himself  with  wonder  and  self-reproach. 

"  Mary,"  he  said,  quietly,  "  I  give  you  my  word 
that  nothing  which  I  have  said  this  evening  has  the 
least  connection  with  that  afternoon.  I  give  you 
my  word  that  not  for  a  moment  have  I  thought 
of  it  in  connection  with  what  I  have  said  to  you 
to-night." 

She  looked  at  him  steadfastly,  and  her  eyes  were 
full  of  things  which  he  could  not  understand. 

"  When  did  you  make  up  your  mind  —  to  ask  me 
this?" 

He  pointed  to  the  little  table  where  they  had  been 
sitting. 

"  Only  a  few  minutes  ago.  I  confess  it  was  an 
impulse.  I  think  that  I  realized  as  we  sat  there  how 
dear  you  had  grown  to  me,  Mary  —  how  dull  life 
was  without  you." 

"  You  say  these  things  to  me,"  she  exclaimed, 
"  when  all  the  time  you  love  another  woman." 

He  started  a  little.  She  smiled  bitterly  as  she  saw 
the  shadow  on  his  face. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean,"  she  said,  deliberately,  "  that  you  love 
Sybil  Caroom.  Is  it  not  true?  " 

His  head  drooped  a  little.  He  had  never  asked 
himself  even  so  much  as  this.  He  was  face  to  face 
now  with  all  the  concentrated  emotions  which  lately 
had  so  much  disturbed  his  life.  The  problem  which 


A   QUESTION   AND   AN   ANSWER      363 

he  had  so  sedulously  avoided  was  forced  upon  him 
ruthlessly,  with  almost  barbaric  simplicity. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  answered,  vaguely.  "  I  have 
never  asked  myself.  I  do  not  wish  to  ask  myself. 
Why  do  you  speak  of  her  ?  She  is  not  of  our  world, 
the  world  to  which  I  want  to  belong.  I  want  to 
forget  her." 

"  You  are  a  little  mad  to-night,  my  friend,"  Mary 
said.  "  To-morrow  you  will  feel  differently.  If  Sybil 
Caroom  cares  for  you,  what  does  it  matter  which 
world  she  belongs  to?  She  is  not  the  sort  of  girl  to 
be  bound  by  old-fashioned  prejudices.  But  I  do  not 
understand  you  at  all  to-night.  You  are  not  yourself. 
I  think  that  you  are  —  a  little  cruel." 

"  Cruel  ?  "  he  repeated. 

Her  face  darkened. 

"  Oh,  it  is  only  natural,"  she  said,  with  a  note  of 
suppressed  passion  in  her  low  tone.  "  It  is  just  the 
accursed  egotism  of  your  sex.  What  right  have  you 
to  make  us  suffer  so  —  to  ask  me  to  marry  you  —  and 
sit  by  my  side  and  wonder  whether  you  care  for 
another  woman?  Can't  you  see  how  humiliating  it 
all  is?  It  is  an  insult  to  ask  a  woman  to  marry  you 
to  cure  your  loneliness,  to  make  you  a  home  to  settle 
your  indecision.  It  is  an  insult  to  ask  a  woman  to 
marry  you  for  any  reason  except  that  you  care  for 
her  more  than  any  other  woman  in  the  world,  and 
can  tell  her  so  trustfully,  eagerly.  Please  to  put  me 
in  a  cab  at  once,  and  never  speak  of  these  things 
again." 

She  was  half-way  across  the  lawn  before  he  could 
stop  her,  her  head  thrown  back,  carrying  herself 
proudly  and  well,  moving  as  it  seemed  to  him  with 


364  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

a  sort  of  effortless  dignity  wholly  in  keeping  with 
the  vigour  of  her  words.  He  obeyed  her  literally. 
There  was  nothing  else  for  him  to  do.  His  slight 
effort  to  join  her  in  the  cab  she  firmly  repulsed,  hold- 
ing out  her  hand  and  speaking  a  few  cheerful  words 
of  thanks  for  her  evening's  entertainment.  And  when 
the  cab  rolled  away  Brooks  felt  lonelier  than  ever. 


CHAPTER    X 

LADY   SYBIL   SAYS   "  YES  " 

THE  carriage  plunged  into  the  shadow  of  trie 
pine-woods,  and  commenced  the  long  uphill 
ascent  to  Saalburg.  Lady  Caroom  put  down  her 
parasol  and  turned  towards  Sybil,  whose  eyes  were 
steadfastly  fixed  upon  the  narrow  white  belt  of  road 
ahead. 

"  Now,  Sybil,"  she  said,  "  for  our  talk." 

"  Your  talk,"  Sybil  corrected  her,  with  a  smile. 
"  I  'm  to  be  listener." 

"  Oh,  it  may  not  be  so  one-sided  after  all,"  Lady 
Caroom  declared.  "  And  we  had  better  make  haste, 
or  that  impetuous  young  man  of  yours  will  come 
pounding  after  us  on  his  motor  before  we  know 
where  we  are.  What  are  you  going  to  do  about 
him,  Sybil?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Well,  you  '11  have  to  make  up  your  mind.  He  's 
getting  on  my  nerves.  You  must  decide  one  way  or 
another." 

Sybil  sighed. 

"  He 's  quite  the  nicest  young  man  I  know  —  of  his 
class,"  she  remarked. 

"  Exactly,"  Lady  Caroom  assented.  "  And  though 
I  think  you  will  admit  that  I  am  one  of  the  least 
conventional  of  mothers,  I  must  really  say  I  don't 


366  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

think  that  it  is  exactly  a  comfortable  thing  to  do  to 
marry  a  man  who  is  altogether  outside  one's  own 
circle." 

"  Mr.  Brooks,"  Sybil  said,  "  is  quite  as  well  bred 
as  Atherstone." 

"  He  is  his  equal  in  breeding  and  in  birth,"  Lady 
Caroom  declared.  "  You  know  all  about  him.  I 
admit,"  she  continued,  "  that  it  sounds  like  a  page 
out  of  a  novel.  But  it  is  n't.  The  only  pity  is  —  from 
one  point  of  view  —  that  it  makes  so  little  difference." 

"  You  think,"  Sybil  asked,  "  that  he  will  really  keep 
his  word  —  that  he  will  not  be  reconciled  with  Lord 
Arranmore?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,  my  dear,"  Lady  Caroom  an- 
swered. "  Unless  a  miracle  happens,  he  will  continue 
to  be  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks  for  the  next  ten  or  fifteen 
years,  for  Lord  Arranmore's  lifetime,  and  you  know 
that  they  are  a  long-lived  race.  So  you  see  the  situ- 
ation remains  practically  unaltered  by  what  I  have 
told  you.  Mr.  Kingston  Brooks  is  a  great  favourite 
of  mine.  I  am  very  fond  of  him  indeed.  But  I  very 
much  doubt  —  even  if  he  should  ask  you  —  whether 
you  would  find  your  position  as  his  wife  particularly 
comfortable.  You  and  I,  Sybil,  have  no  secrets  from 
one  another.  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  exactly  how 
you  feel  about  him." 

Sybil  smiled  —  a  little  ruefully. 

"  If  I  knew  —  exactly,"  she  answered,  "  I  should 
know  exactly  what  to  do.  But  I  don't.  You  know 
how  uninteresting  our  set  of  young  men  are  as  a 
rule.  Well,  directly  I  met  Mr.  Brooks  at  Enton  I  felt 
that  he  was  different.  He  interested  me  very  much. 
Then  I  have  always  wanted  to  do  something  useful, 


LADY    SYBIL   SAYS    "YES"  367 

to  get  something  different  into  my  life,  and  he  found 
me  exactly  the  sort  of  work  I  wanted.  But  he  has 
never  talked  to  me  as  though  he  cared  particularly  — 
though  I  think  that  he  does  a  little." 

"  It  is  easy  to  see,"  Lady  Caroom  remarked,  "  that 
you  are  not  head  over  ears  in  love." 

"  Mother,"  Sybil  answered,  "  do  you  believe  that 
girls  often  do  fall  head  over  ears  in  love?  If  Mr. 
Brooks  and  I  met  continually,  and  if  he  and  his 
father  were  reconciled,  well,  I  think  it  would  be  quite 
easy  for  me  very  soon  to  care  for  him  a  great  deal. 
If  even  now  he  had  followed  me  here,  was  with  us 
often,  and  showed  that  he  was  really  very  fond  of 
me,  I  think  that  I  should  soon  be  inclined  to  return 
it  —  perhaps  even  —  I  don't  know  —  to  risk  marry- 
ing him,  and  giving  up  our  ordinary  life.  But  as  it 
is  I  like  to  think  of  him,  I  should  like  him  to  be  here ; 
but  I  am  not,  as  you  say,  head  over  ears  in  love  with 
him." 

"  And  now  about  Atherstone?  "  Lady  Caroom  said. 

"  Well,  Atherstone  has  improved  a  great  deal," 
Sybil  answered,  thoughtfully.  "  There  are  a  great 
many  things  about  him  which  I  like  very  much.  He 
is  always  well  dressed  and  fresh  and  nice.  He  enjoys 
himself  without  being  dissipated,  and  he  is  perfectly 
natural.  He  is  rather  boyish  perhaps,  but  then  he  is 
young.  He  is  not  afraid  to  laugh,  and  I  like  the  way 
he  enters  into  everything.  And  I  think  I  like  his 
persistence." 

"  As  his  wife,"  Lady  Caroom  said,  "  you  would 
have  immense  opportunities  for  doing  good.  He  has 
a  great  deal  of  property  in  London,  besides  three 
huge  estates  in  Somerset." 


368  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  That  is  a  great  consideration,"  Sybil  said,  ear- 
nestly. "  I  shall  always  be  thankful  that  I  met  Mr. 
Brooks.  He  made  me  think  in  a  practical  way  about 
things  which  have  always  troubled  me  a  little.  I 
should  hate  to  seem  thoughtless  or  ungrateful  to  him. 
Will  you  tell  me  something,  mother  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Do  you  think  that  he  cares  —  at  all  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  does  —  a  little !  " 

"  Enough  to  be  reconciled  with  his  father  for  my 
sake?" 

"  No !  Not  enough  for  that,"  Lady  Caroom 
answered. 

Sybil  drew  a  little  breath. 

"  I  think,"    she  said,  "  that  that  decides  me." 

The  long  ascent  was  over  at  last.  They  pulled  up 
before  the  inn,  in  front  of  which  the  proprietor  was 
already  executing  a  series  of  low  bows.  Before  they 
could  descend  there  was  a  familiar  sound  from  behind, 
and  a  young  man,  in  a  grey  flannel  suit  and  Panama 
hat,  jumped  from  his  motor  and  came  to  the  carriage 
door. 

"  Don't  be  awfully  cross !  "  he  exclaimed,  laughing. 
"  You  know  you  half  promised  to  come  with  me  this 
afternoon,  so  I  could  n't  help  having  a  spin  out  to  see 
whether  I  could  catch  you  up.  Won't  you  allow  me, 
Lady  Caroom?  The  step  is  a  little  high." 

"  It  is  n't  any  use  being  cross  with  you,"  Sybil 
remarked.  "  It  never  seems  to  make  any  impression." 

"I  am  terribly  thick-skinned,"  he  answered,  "when 
I  don't  want  to  understand.  Will  you  ladies  have 
some  tea,  or  come  and  see  how  the  restoration  is 
getting  on  ?  " 


LADY    SYBIL   SAYS   "YES"  369 

"  We  were  proposing  to  go  and  see  what  the  Ger- 
man Emperor's  idea  of  a  Roman  camp  was,"  Sybil 
answered. 

"  Oh,  you  can't  shake  me  off  now,  can  you,  Lady 
Caroom?"  he  declared,  appealing  to  her.  "We'll 
consider  it  an  accident  that  you  found  me  here,  if 
you  like,  but  it  is  in  reality  a  great  piece  of  good 
fortune  for  you." 

"  And  why,  may  I  ask?  "  Sybil  inquired,  with  up- 
lifted eyebrows. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  an  authority  on  this  place  —  come  here 
nearly  every  day  to  give  the  director,  as  he  calls 
himself,  some  hints.  Come  along,  Lady  Caroom. 
1  !11  show  you  the  baths  and  the  old  part  of  the  outer 
wall." 

Lady  Caroom  very  soon  had  enough  of  it.  She 
sat  down  upon  a  tree  and  brought  out  her  sketch- 
book. 

"  Give  me  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  please,"  she  begged, 
"  not  longer.  I  want  to  be  home  for  tea." 

They  strolled  off,  Atherstone  turning  a  little  ner- 
vously to  Sybil. 

"  I  say,  we  've  seen  the  best  part  of  the  ruins,"  he 
remarked.  "  The  renovation  's  hideous.  Let 's  go  in 
the  wood  —  and  I  '11  show  you  a  squirrel's  nest." 

Sybil  hesitated.  Her  thoughts  for  a  moment  were 
in  confusion.  Then  she  sighed  once  and  turned 
towards  the  wood. 

"  I  have  never  seen  a  squirrel's  nest,"  she  said.  "  Is 
it  far?" 

Lady  Caroom  put  her  .sketch  away  as  she  heard 
their  approaching  footsteps,  and  looked  up.  Ather- 

24 


370  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

stone's  happiness  was  too  ridiculously  apparent.    He 
came  straight  over  to  her. 

"  You  '11  give  her  to  me,  won't  you  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  'Pon  my  word,  she  shall  be  the  happiest  woman  in 
England  if  I  can  make  her  so.  I  'm  perfectly  certain 
I  'm  the  happiest  man." 

Lady  Caroom  pressed  her  daughter's  hand,  and 
they  all  turned  to  descend  the  hill. 

"  Of  course  I  'm  charmed,"  Lady  Caroom  said. 
"  Sybil  makes  me  feel  so  elderly.  But  I  don't  know 
what  I  shall  do  for  a  chaperon  now." 

Atherstone  laughed. 

"  I  'm  your  son-in-law,"  he  said.  "  I  can  take  you 
out." 

Sybil  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  you  won't,"  she  declared.  "  The  only  woman 
I  have  ever  been  really  jealous  of  is  mother.  She 
has  a  way  of  absorbing  all  the  attention  from  every 
one  when  she  is  around.  I  'm  not  going  to  have  her 
begin  with  you." 

"  I  feel,"  Atherstone  said,  "  like  the  man  who 
married  a  twin  —  said  he  never  tried  to  tell  the 
difference,  you  know,  when  a  pal  asked  him  how  he 
picked  out  his  own  wife." 

"  If  you  think,"  Sybil  said,  severely,  "  that  you 
have  made  any  arrangements  of  that  sort  I  take  it 
all  back.  You  are  going  to  marry  me,  if  you  behave 
yourself." 

He  sighed. 

"  Three  months  is  a  beastly  long  time,"  he  said. 

Lady    Caroom    drove    back    alone.      The    motor 
\  whizzed  by  her  half-way  down  the  hill  —  Sybil  hold- 
ing her  hat  with  both  hands,  her  hair  blowing  about, 


LADY   SYBIL   SAYS   "YES"  371 

and  her  cheeks  pink  with  pleasure.  She  waved  her 
hand  gaily  as  she  went  by,  and  then  clutched  her  hat 
again.  Lady  Caroom  watched  them  till  they  were 
out  of  sight,  then  she  found  herself  looking  stead- 
fastly across  the  valley  to  the  dark  belt  of  pine-clad 
hills  beyond.  She  could  see  nothing  very  clearly,  and 
there  was  a  little  choking  in  her  throat.  They  were 
both  there,  father  and  son.  Once  she  fancied  that  at 
last  he  was  holding  out  his  arms  towards  her  —  she 
sat  up  in  the  carriage  with  a  little  cry  which  was  half 
a  sob.  When  she  drove  through  the  hotel  gates  it 
was  he  who  stood  upon  the  steps  to  welcome  her. 


CHAPTER   XI 

BROOKS    HEARS   THE    NEWS 

UNCHANGED !  Her  first  eager  glance  into  his 
face  told  her  that.  Waxen  white,  his  lips 
smiled  their  courteous  greeting  upon  her,  his  tone  was 
measured  and  cold  as  ever.  She  set  her  teeth  as  she 
rose  from  her  seat,  and  gathered  her  skirts  in  her 
hand. 

"  You,  too,  a  pilgrim?"  she  exclaimed.  "I  thought 
you  preferred  salt  water." 

"  We  had  a  pleasant  fortnight's  yachting,"  he  an- 
swered. "  Then  I  went  with  Hennibul  to  Wiesbaden, 
and  I  came  on  here  to  see  you." 

"  Have  you  met  Sybil  and  Atherstone?  "  she  asked 
him. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  gravely. 

"  Come  into  my  room,"  she  said,  "  and  I  will  give 
you  some  tea.  These  young  people  are  sure  to  have 
it  on  the  terrace.  I  will  join  you  when  I  have  got 
rid  of  some  of  this  dust." 

He  was  alone  for  ten  minutes.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  she  came  out  through  the  folding-doors  with  the 
old  smile  upon  her  lips  and  the  old  lithesomeness  in 
her  movements.  He  rose  and  watched  her  until  she 
had  settled  down  in  her  low  chair. 

"  So  Sybil  is  going  to  marry  Atherstone ! " 


BROOKS    HEARS    THE   NEWS          373 

"Yes.  He  really  deserves  it,  doesn't  he?  He  is 
a  very  nice  boy." 

Arranmore  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  What  an  everlasting  fool  Brooks  is,"  he  said,  in 
a  low  tone. 

"  He  keeps  his  word,"  she  answered.  "  It  is  a 
family  trait  with  you,  Arranmore.  You  are  all  stub- 
born, all  self-willed,  self-centred,  selfish !  " 

"  Thank  you !  " 

"  You  can't  deny  it." 

"  I  won't  try.  I  suppose  it  is  true.  Besides,  I  want 
to  keep  you  in  a  good  humour." 

"Do  tell  me  why!" 

"  If  Sybil  is  going  to  be  married  you  can't  live 
alone." 

"  I  won't  admit  that,  but  what  about  it  ?  Do  you 
know  of  a  nice  respectable  companion?" 

"  Myself." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  You  may  be  nice,"  she  answered,  "  but  you  cer- 
tainly are  n't  respectable." 

"  I  am  what  you  make  me,"  he  answered,  in  a  low 
tone.  "  Catherine!  A  moment  ago  you  accused  me 
of  stubbornness.  What  about  yourself?" 

"I?" 

"  Yes,  you.  You  have  been  the  one  woman  of  my 
life.  You  are  free,  you  know  that  there  is  no  other 
man  who  could  make  you  happy  as  I  could,  yet  you 
will  not  come  to  me  —  for  the  sake  of  an  idea.  If  I 
am  heartless  and  callous,  an  infidel,  an  egotist,  what- 
ever you  choose,  at  least  I  love  you.  You  need  never 
fear  me.  You  would  always  be  safe." 

She  shook  her  head. 


374  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  Arranmore,"  she  said,  "  this  is  so  painful  to  me. 
Do  let  us  cease  to  discuss  it.  I  have  tried  so  hard  to 
make  you  understand  how  I  feel.  I  cannot  alter.  It 
is  impossible !  " 

"  You  tempt  me,"  he  cried,  "  to  play  the  hypocrite." 

"  No,  I  do  not,  Arranmore,"  she  answered,  gently, 
"  for  there  is  no  acting  in  this  world  which  would 
deceive  me." 

"  You  do  not  doubt  that  I  should  make  you  a  good 
husband?" 

"  I  believe  you  would,"  she  answered,  "  but  I  dare 
not  try  it." 

"  And  this  is  the  woman,"  he  murmured,  sadly, 
"  who  calls  me  stubborn." 

Tea  was  brought  in.  Afterwards  they  walked  in 
the  gardens  together.  The  band  was  playing,  and 
they  were  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  acquaintances. 
A  great  personage  stopped  and  talked  to  them  for  a 
while.  Lady  Caroom  admitted  the  news  of  Sybil's 
engagement.  After  that  every  one  stopped  to  express 
pleasure.  It  was  not  until  the  young  people  appeared 
themselves,  and  at  once  monopolized  all  attention, 
that  Arranmore  was  able  to  draw  his  companion  away 
into  comparative  solitude. 

"  Do  you  by  any  chance  correspond  with  Brooks  ?  " 
he  asked  her. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  No !  "  she  answered.  "  I  was  thinking  of  that. 
I  should  like  him  to  know  from  one  of  us.  Can't  you 
write  him,  Arranmore?" 

"  I  could,"  he  answered,  "  but  it  would  perhaps 
come  better  from  you.  Have  you  ever  had  any  con- 
versation with  him  about  Sybil?" 


BROOKS   HEARS   THE   NEWS          375 

"  Once,"  she  answered,  "  yes !  " 

"  Then  you  can  write  —  it  will  be  better  for  you 
to  write.  I  should  like  to  ask  you  a  question  if  I 
may." 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  any  idea  whether  the  news  will  be 
in  any  way  a  blow  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  think  perhaps  it  may,"  she  admitted. 

Arranmore  was  silent.  She  watched  him  half 
eagerly,  hoping  for  some  look,  some  expression  of 
sympathy.  She  was  disappointed.  His  face  did  not 
relax.  It  seemed  almost  to  grow  harder. 

"  He  has  only  himself  to  blame,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"  But  for  this  ridiculous  masquerading  his  chance 
was  as  good  as  Atherstone's.  Quixoticism  such  as 
his  is  an  expensive  luxury." 

She  shivered  a  little. 

"  That  sounds  hard-hearted,"  she  said.  "  He  is 
doing  what  he  thinks  right." 

Then  Lord  Arranmore  told  her  what  he  had  told 
Brooks  himself. 

"  My  son  is  quite  a  model  young  man,"  he  said, 
"  but  he  is  a  prig.  He  thinks  too  much  about  what 
is  right  and  wrong,  about  what  is  due  to  himself,  and 
he  values  his  own  judgment  too  highly.  However, 
I  have  no  right  to  complain,  for  it  is  he  who  suffers, 
not  I.  May  I  dine  at  your  table  to-night?  I  came 
over  alone." 

"  Certainly." 

They  were  interrupted  a  few  minutes  later  by 
Sybil  and  Atherstone,  and  a  small  host  of  their 
friends.  But  in  consequence  of  Lord  Arran- 
more's  visit  to  Homburg,  Brooks  a  few  days 


376  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

later   received    two    letters.      The   first    was    from 
Lord  Arranmore. 

"HITTER'S  HOTEL. 
"DEAR  MR.  BROOKS, 

"  The  news  which  I  believe  Lady  Caroom  is 
sending  you  to-day  may  perhaps  convince  you  of  the 
folly  of  this  masquerading.  I  make  you,  therefore,  the 
following  offer.  I  will  leave  England  for  at  least  five 
years  on  condition  that  you  henceforth  take  up  your 
proper  position  in  society,  and  consent  to  such  arrange- 
ments as  Mr.  Ascough  and  I  may  make.  In  any  case 
I  was  proposing  to  myself  a  somewhat  extensive  scheme 
of  travel,  and  the  opportunity  seems  to  me  a  good  one 
for  you  to  dispense  with  an  incognito  which  may  lead 
;-ou  some  day  into  even  worse  complications.  I  trust 
that  for  the  sake  of  other  people  with  whom  you  may  be 
brought  into  contact  you  will  accept  the  arrangement 
which  I  propose. 

"  I  remain, 

"Yours  faithfully, 

"  ARRANMORE." 

The  other  letter  was  from  Lady  Caroom. 

«  RITTER»S  HOTEL. 

"  MY  DEAR  '  MR.  BROOKS/ 

"  I  want  to  be  the  first  to  tell  you  of  Sybil's 
engagement  to  the  Duke  of  Atherstone,  which  took 
place  this  afternoon.  He  has  been  a  very  persistent 
suitor,  and  he  is  a  great  favourite,  I  think,  deservedly, 
with  every  one.  He  will,  I  am  sure,  make  her  very 
happy. 

"  I  understand  that  you  are  still  in  London.  You 
must  find  this  weather  very  oppressive.  Take  my 
advice  and  don't  overwork  yourself.  No  cause  in  the 


BROOKS    HEARS   THE    NEWS          377 

world,  however  good,  is  worth  the  sacrifice  of  one's 
health. 

"  I  hope  that  my  news  will  not  distress  you.  You 
realized,  of  course,  that  your  decision  to  remain  known, 
or  rather  unknown,  as  Kingston  Brooks,  made  it  at 
some  time  or  other  inevitable,  and  I  hope  to  see  a  good 
deal  of  you  when  we  return  to  town,  and  that  you  will 
always  believe  that  I  am  your  most  sincere  friend, 

"  CATHERINE  CAROOM." 

Brooks  laid  the  two  letters  down  with  a  curious 
mixture  of  sensations.  He  knew  that  a  very  short 
time  ago  he  might  have  considered  himself  broken- 
hearted, and  he  knew  that  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  was 
nothing  of  the  sort.  He  answered  Lady  Caroom's 
letter  first. 

"  27,  JERMYN  STREET,  W. 

"  DEAR  LADY  CAROOM, 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  write  to  me,  and  to 
send  me  the  news  of  Sybil's  engagement  so  promptly. 
I  wish  her  most  heartily  every  happiness.  After  all,  it 
is  the  most  suitable  thing  which  could  have  happened. 

"  You  are  right  in  your  surmise.  After  our  conver- 
sation I  realized  quite  plainly  that  under  my  present 
identity  I  could  not  possibly  think  of  Lady  Sybil  except 
as  a  very  charming  and  a  very  valued  friend.  I  was, 
therefore,  quite  prepared  for  the  news  which  you  have 
sent  me. 

"  I  am  going  for  a  few  days'  golf  and  sea-bathing  into 
Devonshire,  so  don't  waste  too  much  sympathy  upon  me. 
My  best  regards  to  Lady  Sybil.  Just  now  I  imagine 
that  she  is  overwhelmed  with  good  wishes,  but  if  she 
will  add  mine  to  the  number,  I  can  assure  you  and  her 
that  I  offer  them  most  heartily. 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"KINGSTON  BROOKS. 


378  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

"  P.S.  —  Have  you  heard  that  your  friend  the  Bishop 
is  going  to  bring  a  Bill  before  the  House  of  Lords  which 
is  to  exterminate  me  altogether?" 

Lady  Caroom  sighed  for  a  moment  as  she  read  the 
letter,  but  immediately  afterwards  her  face  cleared. 

"  After  all,  I  think  it  is  best,"  she  murmured,  "  and 
Atherstone  is  such  a  dear." 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS   SPEAKS   OUT 

THE  bishop  sat  down  amidst  a  little  murmur  of 
applause.  He  glanced  up  and  saw  that  his 
wife  had  heard  his  speech,  and  he  noted  with  satis- 
faction the  long  line  of  reporters,  for  whose  sake  he 
had  spoken  with  such  deliberation  and  with  occasional 
pauses.  He  felt  that  his  indictment  of  this  new  chari- 
table departure  had  been  scathing  and  logical.  He 
was  not  altogether  displeased  to  see  Brooks  himself 
in  the  Strangers'  Gallery.  That  young  man  would 
be  better  able  to  understand  now  the  mighty  power 
of  the  Church  which  he  had  so  wantonly  disregarded. 

But  it  was  not  the  bishop's  speech  which  had  filled 
Brooks  with  dismay,  which  had  made  his  heart  grow 
suddenly  cold  within  him.  For  this  he  had  been  pre- 
pared —  but  not  for  the  adversary  who  was  now 
upon  his  feet  prepared  to  address  the  House.  At 
least,  he  said  to  himself,  bitterly,  he  might  have  been 
spared  this.  It  was  Lord  Arranmore,  who,  amidst 
some  murmurs  of  surprise,  had  risen  to  address  the 
House  —  pale,  composed,  supercilious  as  ever.  And 
Brooks  felt  that  what  he  could  listen  to  unmoved  from 
the  Bishop  of  Beeston  would  be  hard  indeed  to  bear 
from  this  man. 

The  intervention  of  Lord  Arranmore  so  early  in 
the  debate  was  wholly  unexpected.  Every  one  was 
interested,  and  those  who  knew  him  best  prepared 


380  A    PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

themselves  for  a  little  mild  sensation.  The  bishop 
smiled  to  himself  with  the  satisfaction  of  a  man  who 
has  secured  a  welcome  but  unexpected  ally.  Lord 
Arranmore's  views  as  to  charity  and  its  dispensation 
were  fairly  well  known. 

So  every  one  listened  —  at  first  with  curiosity, 
afterwards  with  something  like  amazement.  The 
bishop  abandoned  his  expression  of  gentle  tolerance 
for  one  of  manifest  uneasiness.  It  seemed  scarcely 
credible  that  he  heard  aright.  For  the  Marquis  of 
Arranmore's  forefinger  was  stretched  out  towards 
him  —  a  gesture  at  once  relentless  and  scornful,  and 
the  words  to  which  he  was  forced  to  listen  were  not 
pleasant  ones  to  hear. 

"  It  is  such  sentiments  as  these,"  the  Marquis  of 
Arranmore  was  saying  —  and  his  words  came  like 
drops  of  ice,  slow  and  distinct  —  "  such  sentiments 
as  these  voiced  by  such  men  as  the  Lord  Bishop  of 
Beeston  in  such  high  places  as  this  where  we  are  now 
assembled,  which  have  created  and  nourished  our 
criminal  classes,  which  have  filled  our  prisons  and  our 
workhouses,  and  in  the  future  if  his  lordship's  the- 
ology is  correct  will  people  Hell.  And  as  for  the 
logic  of  it,  was  ever  the  intelligence  of  so  learned 
and  august  a  body  of  listeners  so  insulted  before?  Is 
charity,  then,  for  the  deserving  and  the  deserving 
only?  Are  we  to  put  a  premium  upon  hypocrisy,  to 
pass  by  on  the  other  side  from  those  who  have  fallen, 
and  who  by  themselves  have  no  power  to  rise  ?  This 
is  precisely  his  lordship's  proposition.  The  one  great 
charitable  institution  of  our  times,  founded  upon  a 
logical  basis,  carried  out  with  a  devotion  and  a  self- 
sacrifice  beyond  all  praise,  he  finds  pernicious  and 


THE  PRINCE  OF  SINNERS  SPEAKS  OUT    381 

pauperizing,  because,  forsooth,  the  drunkard  and 
criminals  are  welcome  to  avail  themselves  of  it,  be- 
cause it  seeks  to  help  those  who  save  for  such  help 
must  remain  brutes  themselves  and  a  brutalizing 
influence  to  others." 

There  was  a  moment's  deep  silence.  To  those  who 
were  watching  the  speaker  closely,  and  amongst  them 
Brooks,  was  evident  some  sign  of  internal  agitation. 
Yet  when  he  spoke  again  his  manner  was,  if  possible, 
more  self-restrained  than  ever.  He  continued  in  a 
low  clear  tone,  without  any  further  gesture  and 
emotion. 

"  My  lords,  I  heard  a  remark  not  intended  for  my 
ears,  upon  my  rising,  indicative  of  surprise  that  I 
should  have  anything  to  say  upon  such  a  subject  as 
this.  Lest  my  convictions  and  opinions  should  seem 
to  you  to  be  those  of  an  outsider,  let  me  tell  you  this. 
You  are  listening  to  one  who  for  twelve  years  lived 
the  life  of  this  unhappy  people,  dwelt  amongst  them 
as  a  police-court  missionary  —  one  who  was  driven 
even  into  some  measure  of  insanity  by  the  horrors  he 
saw  and  tasted,  and  who  recovered  only  by  an  igno- 
minious flight  into  a  far-off  country.  His  lordship  the 
Bishop  of  Beeston  has  shown  you  very  clearly  how 
little  he  knows  of  the  horrors  which  seethe  beneath 
the  brilliant  life  of  this  wonderful  city.  He  has 
brought  it  upon  himself  and  you  —  that  one  who  does 
know  shall  tell  you  something  of  the  truth  of  these 
things." 

There  was  an  intense  and  breathless  silence.  This 
was  an  assembly  amongst  whom  excitement  was  a 
very  rare  visitant.  But  there  were  many  there  now 
who  sat  still  and  spellbound  with  eyes  riveted  upon 


382  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

the  speaker.  To  those  who  were  personally  ac- 
quainted with  him  a  certain  change  in  his  appearance 
was  manifest.  A  spot  of  colour  flared  in  his  pale 
cheeks.  There  was  a  light  in  his  eyes  which  no  one 
had  ever  seen  there  before.  After  years  of  self-re- 
pression, of  a  cynicism  partly  artificial,  partly  inevi- 
table, the  natural  man  had  broken  out  once  more, 
stung  into  life  by  the  smooth  platitudes  of  the  great 
churchman  against  whom  his  attack  was  directed. 
He  was  reckless  of  the  fact  that  Lady  Caroom, 
Brooks,  and  many  of  his  acquaintances  were  in  the 
Strangers'  Gallery.  For  the  motion  before  the  House 
was  one  to  obtain  legal  and  ecclesiastical  control  over 
all  independent  charities  appealing  to  the  general 
public  for  support,  under  cover  of  which  the  Church, 
in  the  person  of  the  Bishop  of  Beeston,  had  made  a 
solemn  and  deliberate  attack  upon  Brooks'  Society, 
Brooks  himself,  its  aims  and  management. 

As  the  words  fell,  deliberately,  yet  without  hesi- 
tation, from  his  lips,  vivid,  scathing,  forceful,  there 
was  not  one  there  but  knew  that  this  man  spoke  of 
the  things  which  he  had  felt.  The  facts  he  marshalled 
before  them  were  appalling,  but  not  a  soul  doubted 
them.  It  was  truth  which  he  hurled  at  them,  truth 
before  which  the  Bishop  sat  back  in  his  seat  and  felt 
his  cheeks  grow  paler  and  his  eyes  more  full  of 
trouble.  A  great  deal  of  it  they  had  heard  before, 
but  never  like  this  —  never  had  it  been  driven  home 
into  their  conscience  so  that  doubt  or  evasion  was 
impossible.  And  this  man,  who  was  he?  They 
rubbed  their  eyes  and  wondered.  Ninth  Marquis  of 
Arranmore,  owner  of  great  estates,  dilettante,  sports- 
man, cynic,  latter-day  sinner  —  or  an  apostle  touched 


THE  PRINCE  OF  SINNERS  SPEAKS  OUT    383 

with  fire  from  Heaven  to  open  men's  eyes,  gifted  for 
a  few  brief  minutes  with  the  tongue  of  a  saintly  De- 
mosthenes. Those  who  knew  him  gaped  like  children 
and  wondered.  And  all  the  time  his  words  stung 
them  like  drops  of  burning  rain. 

"  This,"  he  concluded  at  last,  "  is  the  Hell  which 
burns  for  ever  under  this  great  city,  and  it  is  such 
men  as  his  lordship  the  Bishop  of  Beeston  who  can 
come  here  and  speak  of  their  agony  in  well-rounded 
periods  and  congratulate  you  and  himself  upon  the 
increasing  number  of  communicants  in  the  East  End 
—  who  stands  in  the  market-place  of  the  world  with 
stones  for  starving  people.  But  I,  who  have  been 
down  amongst  those  fires,  I,  who  know,  can  tell  you 
this :  Not  all  the  churches  of  Christ,  not  all  the  reli- 
gious societies  ever  founded,  not  all  the  combined  la- 
bours of  all  the  missionaries  who  ever  breathed,  will 
quench  or  even  abate  those  flames  until  they  go  to 
their  labours  in  the  name  of  humanity  alone,  and  free 
themselves  utterly  from  all  the  cursed  restrictions  and 
stipulations  of  their  pet  creed.  Starving  men  will 
mock  at  the  mention  of  a  God  of  Justice,  men  who 
are  in  torture  body  and  soul  are  scarcely  likely  to 
respond  to  the  teachings  of  a  God  of  Love.  Save  the 
bodies  of  this  generation,  and  the  souls  of  the  next 
may  be  within  your  reach." 

They  thought  then  that  he  had  finished.  He  paused 
for  an  unusually  long  time.  When  he  spoke  again 
he  seemed  to  have  wholly  regained  his  usual  com- 
posure. The  note  of  passion  had  passed  from  his 
tone.  His  cheeks  were  once  more  of  waxen  pallor. 
The  deliberately-chosen  words  fell  with  a  chill  sar- 
casm from  his  lips. 


384  A    PRINCE   OF    SINNERS 

"  His  lordship  the  Bishop  of  Beeston/'  he  said, 
"  has  also  thought  fit,  on  the  authority,  I  presume,  of 
Mr.  Lavilette  and  his  friends,  to  make  slighting  ref- 
erence to  the  accounts  of  the  Society  in  question.  As 
one  of  the  largest  subscribers  to  that  Society,  may  I 
be  allowed  to  set  at  rest  his  anxieties  ?  Before  many 
days  the  accounts  from  its  very  earliest  days,  which 
have  all  the  time  been  in  the  hands  of  an  eminent  firm 
of  accountants,  will  be  placed  before  the  general  pub- 
lic. In  the  meantime  let  me  tell  you  this.  I  am  will- 
ing to  sign  every  page  of  them.  I  pledge  my  word 
to  their  absolute  correctness.  The  author  of  this 
movement  has  from  the  first,  according  to  my  certain 
knowledge,  devoted  a  considerable  part  of  his  own 
income  to  the  work.  If  others  who  are  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  a  princely  stipend  for  their  religious  labours  " 
• —  he  looked  hard  at  the  bishop  —  "  were  to  imitate 
this  course  of  action,  I  imagine  that  there  are  a  good 
many  charitable  institutions  which  would  not  now  be 
begging  for  donations  to  keep  them  alive." 

He  sat  down  without  peroration,  and  almost  im- 
mediately afterwards  left  the  House.  The  first  read- 
ing of  the  bishop's  Bill  was  lost  by  a  large  majority. 


Arranmore  sat  by  himself  in  his  study,  and  his  face 
was  white  and  drawn.  A  cigarette  which  he  had  lit 
on  entering  the  room  had  burnt  out  between  his 
fingers.  This  sudden  upheaval  of  the  past,  coming 
upon  him  with  a  certain  spasmodic  unexpectedness, 
had  shaken  his  nerves.  He  had  not  believed  himself 
capable  of  anything  of  the  sort.  The  unusual  ex- 
citement was  upon  him  still.  All  sorts  of  memories 


THE  PRINCE  OF  SINNERS  SPEAKS  OUT    385 

and  fancies  long  ago  buried,  thronged  in  upon  him. 
So  he  sat  there  and  suffered,  striving  in  vain  to  crush 
them,  whilst  faces  mocked  him  from  the  shadows, 
and  familiar  voices  rang  strangely  in  his  ears.  He 
scarcely  heard  the  softly-opened  door.  The  light 
footsteps  and  the  rustling  of  skirts  had  their  place 
amongst  the  throng  of  torturing  memories.  But  his 
eyes  —  surely  his  eyes  could  not  mock  him.  He 
started  to  his  feet. 

"Catherine!" 

She  did  not  speak  at  once,  but  all  sorts  of  things 
were  in  her  eyes.  He  ground  his  teeth  together, 
and  made  one  effort  to  remain  his  old  self. 

'  You  have  come  to  offer  —  your  sympathy.  How 
delightful  of  you.  The  bishop  got  on  my  nerves,  you 
know,  and  I  really  am  not  answerable  for  what  I  said. 
Catherine !  " 

She  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck. 

"  You  dear !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  am  not  afraid 
of  you  any  more.  Kiss  me,  Philip,  and  don't  talk 
nonsense,  because  I  shan't  listen  to  you." 


Brooks  drove  up  in  hot  haste.  The  butler  stopped 
him  respectfully. 

"  His  lordship  is  particularly  engaged,  sir." 

"  He  will  see  me,"  Brooks  answered.  "  Please 
announce  me  —  Lord  Kingston  of  Ross !  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  the  man  stammered. 

"  Lord  Kingston  of  Ross,"  Brooks  repeated,  cast- 
ing off  for  ever  the  old  name  as  though  it  were  a 
disused  glove.  "  Announce  me  at  once." 

It  was  the  Arranmore  trick  of  imperiousness,  and 
25 


386  A   PRINCE   OF   SINNERS 

the  man  recognized  it.  He  threw  open  the  study  door 
with  trembling  ringers,  but  he  was  careful  to  knock 
first. 

"  Lord  Kingston  of  Ross." 

He  walked  to  his  father  with  outstretched  hand. 

"  You  were  right,  sir,"  he  said,  simply.  "  I  was  a 
prig!" 

They  stood  for  a  moment,  their  hands  locked.  It 
was  a  silent  greeting,  but  their  faces  were  eloquent. 
Brooks  looked  from  his  father  to  Lady  Caroom  and 
smiled. 

"  I  could  not  wait,"  he  said.  "  I  was  forced  to 
come  to  you  at  once.  But  I  think  that  I  will  go  now 
and  pay  another  call." 

He  stood  outside  on  the  kerb  while  they  fetched 
him  a  hansom.  The  fresh  night  wind  blew  in  his 
face,  cool  and  sweet.  From  Piccadilly  came  the  faint 
hum  of  traffic,  and  the  ceaseless  monotonous  beat  of 
hurrying  footsteps.  The  hansom  pulled  up  before 
him  with  a  jerk.  He  sprang  lightly  in. 

"  No.  1 10,  Crescent  Flats,  Kensington." 


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